


Ripples on the Sea

by Marion



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 07:33:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17341247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marion/pseuds/Marion
Summary: 1952 Acapulco, a deep sea diver meets a cliff diver....





	Ripples on the Sea

It was peaceful, serene, restful, so... undemanding. There were no decisions he felt needed to be made, no actions he wanted to take.  


All the sounds around him were muted. He knew that the water outside his suit was warm and the inside was dry and set at blood temperature. But that was unimportant. The water tried to push against him but that was what water did; you either fought against it or went with the flow. Jim just forgot about it. He could block out the faint tang of rubber and the chemical smells from inside his suit. He could even ignore the feel of the heavy, lead boots anchoring him to the sand at the bottom and the helmet which restricted his head movement.  


The sun, its appearance filtered through the water, was a dazzling, bright, white, fuzzy disc, and if he looked towards the surface, he would only see the sunbeams through the water, and the dark shadow of the boat's hull through the glare... so he didn't even try to look. In fact he tried not to look at anything; not the fish as they swam by him or the plant life swaying gently in the cloudy water... he let everything just fade away into the dark blue-green background.  


If he thought about it, he could imagine this was what being in his mother's womb felt like, the warmth and the calm of a gently beating heart, but then thinking required energy and effort, so he floated, upright, and just let go.  


A merman swam in front of his helmet. The sunlight penetrating the sea cast shadowy ripples across the merman's bare skin. He had dark wisps of curly hair on his chest, leading down in a trail to a pair of swimming trunks that fit perfectly around the creature's lower body emphasizing a nicely sized bulge at the merman's groin. A small, wicked-looking knife was strapped to his thigh.  


_Is it just mermaids who have tails then?_ Jim pondered. _Wonder if he got the trunks from a drowned swimmer,_ and he tried not to imagine this merman tugging them from a dead body and pulling them around his own groin as some form of trophy....  


Jim blinked and came back to reality.  


_Great,_ he thought, _hallucinations!_  


He'd had a few vision problems of late, things somehow becoming really close before telescoping out again, not to mention the same sort of thing happening with noises - either being too loud or too soft. At first he put it down to the effect the water had on light and sound, but he couldn't ignore the problems when he had them on land too; he'd just never had 'real' hallucinations before.  


_Oxygen toxicity? Haven't had the euphoria or any other symptoms associated with that...._  


_Damn!_ He was thinking again.  


His attention was drawn back to the creature's upper torso where tiny translucent beads were caught in the merman's chest hairs. As the being moved they drifted away and floated upwards, minute, clear bubbles, each with their own tiny rainbow inside....  


He blinked again. The creature's face was right up close to his visor. Jim could see, in fine detail, the tiny pearl the being wore in his earlobe, and Jim reflected back in the creature's blue eyes.  


Jim automatically tried to pull back and the creature swam away a little. He stared at Jim, with his head on one side as though pondering about this strange human in the odd yellow, metal suit.  


"Go away!" Jim mouthed to the merman.  


The creature looked puzzled but darted up and away.  


Pity really, that he had to send it away, Jim thought. The creature was lovely to look at; long brown hair floating around his face, beautiful blue eyes, and full lips, plus a great body... shame about the strange shell deformity on its nose.  


Then he was back. It pointed at Jim with his index finger, and then jabbed urgently upwards with his thumb.  


Jim shook his head as best he could in the heavy helmet. "No", he mouthed.  


The creature frowned. It swam around Jim's body and came back into view. It held up its hands, and shrugged. Jim took the gesture to mean 'why not?'  


"Just go away!" Jim mouthed with more force, waving his glove-covered hands at the merman.  


The creature's frown became more pronounced. "No!" It shook its head, sending bubbles of air into the water. It grasped Jim's arms and tugged hard, trying to pull Jim upwards.  


Jim tried to shake his arms free but the creature was stronger than it first appeared and it took some effort to get his arms from its grasp.  


Jim finally sighed. "I'll never get any peace with you around, will I?" he muttered.  


He sighed again and admitted defeat. He took the merman's arm to get its attention and then nodded, copying the 'thumbs up' gesture and then allowed the merman to pull him along, stumbling, towards the line which he had followed down into the water.  


He pulled on the rope to give the signal he was ready to return to the surface. Then he turned to look for the merman but he had swum away in a spiral of bubbles upwards and Jim couldn't see him with the luminous light shining through the water.  


As he broke the surface, the water cascading away momentarily blinded Jim. He knew from past experience that the sudden exposure to the upper world could give him a headache and he automatically tensed up ready for it.  


He slowly climbed the ladder attached to the boat with the help of his crewman who was in the water, waiting for him. Jim noticed the merman was also being helped onto the deck from the opposite side of the vessel.  


Jim watched as the creature shook his hair, sending droplets of water into the air, and then removed the strange shell from its nose. Jim then realized it was a just nose clip, made from tortoiseshell and designed to keep his nostrils closed under water.  


No merman then, but still very beautiful - handsome, Jim corrected himself; there was no denying the masculinity of this man. Now out of the water, the man's skin was tanned and healthy, his hair was curling at the ends as it dried, and it looked soft, sun-kissed.  


Jim noticed a few scars on the young man's body. They didn't detract from the man's beauty, in many ways it made his body more interesting to Jim. Tell-tale signs of life's experiences.  


As Jim stepped out onto the deck, a crewman rushed to unscrew his helmet, and help him out of his diving suit, watched closely by the young man sitting astride the rail of the boat.  


Jim blinked in the sunlight and shuddered against the sudden rush of sounds, smells and light. He screwed up his eyes as his head began to throb.  


"Is he okay?" the young man asked. He came over to Jim. "Are you okay?" he asked again, before anyone could answer, putting a hand on Jim's shoulder. Jim swore he could feel that warm touch even through his under garment.  


"Yes, sir, he'll be fine, just a touch of rapture of the deep. These things happen," the crewman replied as he undid Jim's gloves and pulled them off. Jim clenched and unclenched his hands, getting the feeling back in them.  


"It didn't look like any narcosis I've seen before.... Can't he talk for himself?"  


"Oh, the skipper can talk; sometimes we find it hard to shut him..." the crewman began.  


"I can talk," Jim cut in, "when there's something to talk about."  


The young man's frown grew even deeper. "Good. Good. So you are all right?"  


"Yes, I'm fine," Jim insisted.  


"Really? Because I thought, when we were down there...." he stopped himself. "Never mind. It's none of my business. If you are okay, I'll get going." The young man turned away but then turned back. "You want to get rid of that old suit, they're death traps." Then he climbed up on the boat rail, and dived in.  


Jim waited for the splash, but there was hardly a sound.  


His attention was called back by the crewman slapping him on the shoulder. "Jesus, Skip! What do you think you were doing down there? You nearly gave everyone a heart attack."  


He was pushed out of the way by the man liaising with their financier.  


"You idiot, Ellison. You lost us valuable time there!"  


The man was pale under his straw sun hat, and he wiped the sweat from his face with a linen handkerchief.  


Jim gave him a baleful stare. "The suit is faulty, Lopez! I don't know what I was breathing, but it wasn't oxygen! Either get something new or count me and my boat out!"  


"That takes time, Ellison. Our financier is sending for a new suit, one of those fancy scuba suits from Europe, but they cost money and take time to get here. We cannot get them in Mexico. We need to get moving here and show results."  


"Then fix the suit!" Jim strode away with as much gravitas as he could.  


*** * ***

Once in his 'civilian' clothes, Jim returned to the deck and walked to the stern of the vessel ignoring the stares of the others as they stored the suit away, and looked out towards the beach where the young man had reached the shore. Jim watched as his merman pulled a small canoe up onto the beach, picked up a towel, giving Jim a nice view of his tight butt, and then threw the towel over his shoulders as he straightened. He slipped a pair of deck shoes on his feet.  


Then, as though feeling the weight of Jim's stare, he turned and, shielding his eyes, looked towards Jim's boat.  


Jim was pretty sure the young man couldn't see much this far away, but then Jim probably shouldn't be able to see the detail he knew he could from this distance.  


The young man lowered his hand slowly, turned and walked away, the towel wrapped around his neck, disappearing into the trees and leaving Jim feeling somehow abandoned and oddly alone.  


*** * ***

They moored at a small harbor in a town around the headland from Acapulco. Usually Jim preferred to just grab some food and then eat on his boat, but this evening something made him decide to join his crew in the town.  


It was a pleasant little place. It had a church dedicated to St. Jude with a bell tower, which Jim could see and sometimes hear, from his boat, and a plaza of faded, pale pink slabs in front. There was a scattering of brightly colored one-story houses with tin roofs, lining a few narrow cobbled streets with garden walls where flowers tumbled over and poked through the cracks, and a small cantina where Jim's crew usually ended up in the evening.  


There was a smell of fish, wood-burning stoves and freshly baked bread. A couple of decrepit pick-ups, the metal work pock-marked with rust, sat by the side of the only wide road in or out. A dog of indefinable breed lay sprawled near them, only raising its head as it noticed the men, and barked, just once, its tail producing a half-hearted wag, before it yawned and went back to sleep. Some chickens pecked at the hard clay of the road. On one of the flat roofs a cat sat licking its paw, studiously ignoring everything below. It was a picture of languid sleepiness where nothing ever happened and if it did, no one would have noticed.  


The cantina reflected the town, being both small and looking as though it had seen better days, but it was clean and the food smelled good. Jim's stomach rumbled, but his merry band was as interested in the alcohol available as any food. Jose and Raphael had their arms over each other's shoulders as they talked in rapid Mexican Spanish, with Jack and Mac following behind laughing at some shared old memory.  


It didn't take long before the beer loosened their tongues and the talk turned to the young diver, where he was from, how he managed to dive to where Jim was without any aids, how his long hair made him look almost feminine - though from Jim's point of view, the diver seemed anything but - and soon the conversation was filled with coarse innuendo starting with, "I once knew a girl who could dive real deep..." and descending into the gutter from there.  


Jim was by no means a prude, but tonight it left a bad taste in Jim's month and he stepped out onto the porch with his bottle of beer and gazed out across the town to the beach and the sea. The sun was beginning to set and the colors in the sky were beautiful, the clouds streaked with pink and orange, as though painted with broad strokes by some master artist, and reflected in the darkening water below. If Jim could blot out the noise behind him, it would be perfect.  


He was joined by the woman who kept the bar. Jim had seen her a few times, wandering through the cantina, making people feel at ease, laughing with them, flirting with the men, but this was the first time Jim had really looked at her. She was mature in age and quite lovely; slim, petit, with sparking, mischievous, green eyes, and hair that was almost hidden under a scarf. A few strands of red escaped to frame her face. She had a fragile glow about her; she looked the kind of woman who needed protecting, but something about her also suggested that she could out maneuver many a man.  


"I thought you might need some company," she said. Her accent was mid USA, soft and warm on the ears.  


Jim smiled at her. "I feel I should apologize for my men," he said, indicating the crew in the bar, with a nod of his head. "Get a few beers down them and they forget there's a lady present."  


She smiled back. "Don't worry," she said, "I've learnt to ignore it."  


"Have you been here long? Sorry, that sounds like a terrible pick-up line!"  


She laughed. "Not long." She leaned forwards, resting her arms against the rail and gazing out to sea. The golden sunset made her skin glow, making her look even more ethereal.  


"Do you know the man they are talking about?" Jim asked.  


"Yes, I do. There are not many men around here who wear their hair long and who dive like that."  


"He saved my life today."  


That caught her attention and she turned towards him. "Is that why they are talking about him?"  


Jim took another drink from his bottle. "Yes. He certainly made an impression on all of us, but for different reasons." He studied her. "Does he come to this bar? I would like to buy him a drink or something. No strings, I just feel I owe him."  


"He doesn't drink much. Sometimes he comes in the morning to have breakfast."  


"Then perhaps you could ask him if I could buy him breakfast one morning?"  


The sound of glass breaking and cheering came from the bar. The woman shook her head and laughed. "Excuse me."  


"Wait." Jim took her arm and then dropped his hand away as she pointedly looked at it.  


"Please, will you ask the diver?"  


She hesitated but then nodded. "I'll ask him when I see him next."  


"Do you need any help in there?" Jim nodded towards the bar where the rumpus was getting louder.  


She laughed again. "I just ask them if they would behave like that in their mother's house!" She paused at the door. "Or a bucket of cold water over the head works just as well." She winked at Jim and walked inside.  


Jim waited. There was more shouting, a loud cry of surprise and then a roar of laughter. He smiled and turned back seawards, towards the little adobe houses. It was still hot, but the sun would soon be disappearing and the darkening sky towards the west was a riot of purples and deep pinks. White mare's tails of clouds tinted with gold edges drifted away towards the setting sun. It was painfully romantic. Jim suddenly felt very lonely.  


He'd always had a preference for the male body, but being with a lady was... easier. You could kiss a woman in public. It was okay to be seen arm in arm with a woman. You were less likely to get beaten up for having sex with a woman, or arrested, or both. Which wasn't to say he didn't like women, he did! He just liked cock. But a quick anonymous fuck in a dark alleyway was somehow less satisfying than it used to be.  


Jim could admit it to himself; he was a romantic at heart. He wanted a reason to come home. He wanted someone to hold, someone special, and someone who didn't think he was a sick pervert - his ex-wife's final words before she walked out on him and their marriage.  


He hadn't even been unfaithful to her during the, (thankfully), brief time they were together. It was Caroline's friend's hairdresser; a man Jim had once turned down, who stirred that particular pot. Thank God there were no ankle-biters on the way, or he and Caroline could have been stuck in the same mess as his mom and dad were. "Thanks, friend," he said raising his bottle in salute to the whistle blower of a hairdresser.  


On the other hand, he couldn't remember the last time he had someone special in his life; hell, he couldn't remember the last time he had sex with someone other than his own right hand! Now wasn't that depressing!  


Just as Jim thought he would be better off back on his boat and in his bunk, he caught a glimpse of a shadow beyond the houses; a solitary figure walking with a purpose along the beach. He was wearing a shirt and shorts, but there was no mistaking the long curly hair or the glint of a pearl. Before he changed his mind, Jim dashed back inside, threw down some pesos on to the bar in front of the startled woman, grabbed another bottle of beer and then rushed outside again.  


He didn't want to spook the diver, nor did he want to lose sight of him so he slowed to a walk. It was odd, but as he watched the figure ahead, he felt focused, filled with a purpose he'd not had for a long time.  


The diver seemed unaware of being watched or followed, still keeping his steady pace on the beach, yet keeping parallel to the sea.  


The houses all but died out to be replaced by the odd tree and low undergrowth... then more trees and thicker bushes....  


Suddenly the diver did an abrupt left turn and vanished into the trees.  


Jim broke into trot, worried he might lose his quarry. At the spot where the young man had disappeared, Jim could see a faint trail of broken branches and torn leaves but soon there were no more clues left to see and Jim stood looking around for any signs of where the diver could have gone.  


Then he felt something pressed hard against his back, something cylindrical and blunt. His first thought was that it was a gun barrel. He slowly raised his arms.  


"Why are you following me?"  


Jim recognized the voice straight away. He focused on the feel of the gun, and noticed something odd about it. He frowned, and then relaxed as he realized the 'gun' didn't feel metallic and was more likely, a small branch of a tree.  


"Easy there, friend. I just wanted to thank you for saving my life today.... I think your branch is out of lead."  


The branch didn't waver. "The end I'm holding is heavy enough to knock you out, or at least leave a dent in your thick head."  


Jim sighed. "Truce, Chief? I come bearing gifts, well, one gift." He waved the bottle of beer in the air.  


There was a pause and then the branch was removed and Jim lowered his arms and turned slowly around. The young diver wasn't lying; the other end of the tree branch was thick and solid looking.  


"I apologize for following you, but I really do want to thank you, and to also apologize for my behavior in the water and on the boat. I was a little spooked at seeing you. I thought at first you were a merman."  


"A merman? That's a new one!" The diver hesitated briefly. "Okay," he said, "I accept your apologies, and your beer. But only if you tell me what the hell was going on with you down there."  


Jim cringed inside. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his thoughts in the sea, about how much he wanted, for however brief a moment, to just let the darkness take him, but he nodded. He couldn't help feeling ashamed and embarrassed about it. He admitted to himself that he was a proud man, but he had responsibilities to his crew. Suicide wasn't an option, however tempting.  


"Good," the diver said, bringing Jim out of his thoughts. "My house is just up ahead we can sit and talk there. It'll be dark soon. Come on."  


The house was different from what Jim expected. It was built mainly of wood, with a veranda running around the outside. A hammock was slung between two of the supports and the door faced the sea. Large windows with shutters sat either side of the door and the whole place was painted pale blue, bleached by the sun. Somehow it suited the young man by his side.  


The diver went inside and emerged with a bottle opener. He popped the top of his beer and took a long swig.  


"Ah, that's good."  


Jim smiled. "The lady at the bar in town said you don't drink a lot."  


"Lady at the bar? Oh you must mean Naomi. She would say that, she's my mother!" He laughed. "By the way, my name's Blair Sandburg." He held out his hand.  


"Jim Ellison."  


The diver had a good, strong grip.  


"Good to meet you, Jim."  


They sat in a relaxed silence on the steps to the veranda, sipping their beers and looking out to sea - until Blair said, "So what happened down there?"  


Jim looked down at his bottle, teasing the label with his thumb. "Nothing much, I just got lost in the silence, it was restful."  


"But you must have heard your radio?"  


"I sort of tuned it out, I guess."  


Blair frowned and looked down as if avoiding looking at Jim's face. "Guess you must have," he said, before taking a swig from his bottle  


Jim felt uncomfortable as though he'd disappointed the young man. He decided to change the subject. "Why'd you grow your hair so long?"  


Blair laughed. "The ladies in the fashionable part of Acapulco like it, they say it's 'romantic'."  


"You are a gigolo?" Jim couldn't keep the shock from his voice.  


Blair frowned again. "See, that word has unfortunate connotations. I prefer to think of myself as more of a companion. These women are not all gaudy socialites who spend more on getting their nails done than on their maid's wages. A number of them are lonely, they want someone to talk to, to take them around, drive their cars, and listen to them. Often they have lovers or husbands in the film industry and they come away on holiday with them, only for the husbands to return to Hollywood first."  


"Don't the husbands object?"  


"No, I think they're pleased that someone is escorting their ladies."  


"And what about the actors? Have you met any?"  


"Anyone famous, you mean? No, although, well, I've been approached by someone who wanted me to come to an actor's party, but they made it clear that this actor was interested in men, if you see what I mean."  


Jim nodded. "I've heard stories about some of these actors. So you turned down the invite?"  


"Of course. I'm not that kind of a guy." Blair's face had turned cold and he stood and went inside, returning a minute or so with two more bottles.  


"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you." Jim said, accepting one of the beers.  


Blair sighed. "I know some men see me, see my long hair and assume I would welcome their attention more than I would the ladies, you know? And they... push the issue, sometimes forcefully. Although this part of Mexico is fairly forgiving about alternative life styles, I guess because of the presence of the movie stars, it's still a Catholic country with old ideas and conventions. Such remarks can cause problems. There's a strong element of machismo here. Any hint of effeminacy could lead to insults or maybe a beating in a dark alley at night."  


"Oh. Oh, I see."  


"The truth is I had my hair short until I returned from the combat zone. Then I just wanted to break away from the whole military thing."  


"You were in the war?"  


Blair shook his head. "No, I went as a reporter-come-photographer. I saw the aftermath of what war does to people. Never again. What those people went through...." He took another drink. "What about you? I'm guessing you were in the Navy?"  


"Yes. They discovered I had an aptitude for diving."  


Blair nodded slowly. "But you left?"  


"I was invalided out."  


"Oh."  


"Nothing... too bad. Guess it was all too much for me in the end."  


Blair looked at him long and hard. "Nothing to do with what happened today?"  


"No."  


"Good, because deep water narcosis is a bad way to die, as you, an experienced diver, should know all too well."  


"Yeah." Jim felt the silence drag for a moment. "I was on a mission with my team, planting limpet mines close to a Jap base. Somehow something gave us away and they came for us. Most of my men were killed in the water. A couple were captured and ended up in PoW camps in Singapore. I managed to escape, although I was shot in the leg. How I got to safety was more luck than judgment, but I got washed up on a beach. Some local tribesmen found me and nursed me back to health, before helping me get to a US base. Jack was the only one of my crew to survive unscathed. He'd been on a bender the night before the mission and was too hung over to go. He was in the brig at the base during the operation.  


"After the war I bought a boat and some diving gear and set up it all up for hire with Jack and Mac. Unfortunately my suit got a tear and I'm trying to raise the money for a new one."  


"Mac the one who has more hair on his chin than his head and smokes a pipe?"  


Jim grinned. "That's him. He's got a keen touch with machinery. He says it's just a case of knowing where and how hard to hit it."  


Blair laughed.  


Jim decided he liked that sound. "And I hired Jose and Rafael to help with this dive. We need the extra hands. What about you? Where did you learn to dive the way you do?"  


"Oh, today was the deepest dive I've done for a while. But to answer your question, when I was a child, Naomi and I traveled a lot. We ended up at the town of Toba, in Japan in fact. The Ama sort of adopted me..."  


"Ama?"  


"Oh, sorry, the Ama are amazing women divers renowned for their diving stamina. They dive for oysters, abalone, lobster... all without breathing apparatus and only taking a short break for air. They swim in dangerous waters, risking deep water blackout, and sharks. They can dive to depths of one hundred feet on a single breath, and they only wear loin cloths and nose clips. They taught me to swim, to dive, to find pearls. Thanks to their training, my best for free diving is around five minutes. Naomi isn't interested in diving. She would rather have campaigned for the Ama to have more rights and safety equipment. Which I'm really down with, you know? But even when we were there, before the war, the cultured pearls grown in man-made oyster beds meant the Ama were no longer able to get the prices they used to."  


Jim couldn't help but smile at Blair's enthusiasm. "Sounds really special, Chief."  


"Yeah, it was! I don't know how many of the Ama survived after the war. I hope some of them are still around."  


"Did you find any pearls yourself? Like the one in your ear?"  


"This one? This was a gift from an Ama lady. I did find a pearl or two myself. Only one in ten thousand oysters have a pearl inside, you know? You have to be really lucky to find the right one. Of course, you can get almost identical cultivated pearls for necklaces, bracelets.... There's still a market for the unusual, like black pearls, but I've never met an Ama who's found one."  


"Your father go with you to Japan?" Jim probed.  


Blair chuckled. "Nosy, aren't you! Never had one, well, not one that I knew! Mom came from a wealthy family. She went to the best parties, mixed with actors, singers, sportsmen, politicians... catch her on a good day and she'll tell you about meeting Errol Flynn, Douglas Fairbanks Junior, David Niven, even John Wayne!"  


Jim laughed. "And why did you both end up here?"  


"This is one of mom's favorite haunts."  


"And does 'the Duke' come here often?"  


"As a matter of fact, he owns a ranch not far from the city and a place over-looking the sea, same as Lana Turner. Cary Grant, Errol Flynn, Richard Widmark, they've all been here. In fact, John Wayne and Johnny Weissmuller own Los Famingoes, the nightclub. One barman there created a cocktail for the Duke called CocoLoco!"  


Jim chuckled.  


Blair added, "Truth is, I don't know who my father may have been."  


"Can't have been easy for you."  


"I learnt to defend myself very early on and to invent some pretty tall tales to avoid any... difficulties. And some of mom's boyfriends were great. I went to a number of World Series, met some of the stars too!  


"What about your family?"  


Jim smiled. "My turn now? All right. My father was in the munitions trade, but though my mother knew about that when she married him, she found it more difficult to accept once war broke out in Europe. She wanted him to turn the factory into more peaceful manufacturing."  


"Swords to ploughshares?"  


"Yeah, something like that. The marriage finally broke up. My father wanted me to work my way up in the factory, starting from the shop floor. Trouble was I never wanted to sit on the board. I enjoyed the physical labor more. One day I walked out."  


"And ran away to sea."  


Jim chuckled. "Yeah. So after the navy, I bought the Sweetheart, diving suits, roped in Jack and Mac, and went freelance," and he drained his bottle. "And here I am."  


"Yep, so you are. Salud, amor y pesetas! It means 'may you have health and money', to which you reply, y tiempo para gastarlas - 'and time to enjoy them in'." Blair 'clinked' his bottle against Jim's in a toast. He stretched. "I should light some lamps. It's getting really dark."  


"I should go." Jim started to get up and sat down again quickly. "Wow!"  


Blair laughed. "How many beers did you have before you hunted me down?"  


Jim frowned. "Two, maybe? But I can usually handle beer."  


"American beer. This is the local brew. It's kinda stronger than you are probably used to, got a real kick to it."  


"I'll be all right. I know my way back." Jim tried to stand again and fell back onto the steps. "Guess it goes to your legs! Once I find my feet...."  


"And in the morning I'll have to lead a search party out to find you! You can have my bed and I'll pile up some z's in the hammock."  


"No, I'll be fine..."  


"You are one stubborn son of a... will you listen to yourself! It's not a problem. I've slept out here many times."  


"Okay, okay." Jim held up his hands in surrender. "Thank you."  


This time Jim managed to stand by holding on to the balustrade, and walked carefully up the steps with only a slight sway. Blair followed behind.  


The bed was in the middle of the room - which was just as well because Jim more or less fell head first onto it. It was also surprisingly comfortable. He felt his feet being lifted onto the mattress, his shoes untied and removed and a light coverlet thrown over him. Then he knew no more.  


*** * ***

The sunlight woke Jim up. He stretched and slowly opened his eyes. He'd slept better than he had for ages and he felt refreshed and relaxed. For a moment he lay there, just enjoying the feeling, taking in the décor of Blair's casa, the books, shells, unusual objects and pictures on the shelves of a tall bookcase; it was homely without being cluttered, then his bladder got the better of him and he sat up, swung his legs out of the bed and, remembering to shake out his shoes first in case any shifty small lizard had taken up residence during the night, slipped them on and went in search of a lavatory. He found it out the back, a hole in a bench over another hole in the ground inside a small shed. Once that was taken care of, he strolled back to the veranda where his host was still out cold in his hammock, snoring softly. A large, old book with a well worn, faded leather binding, lay open across his chest, one arm slung possessively across it. A pair of reading glasses sat hooked in the 'v' of his t-shirt.  


Jim carefully leaned over to read the title of the book: Sentinels of Paraguay. Curiosity got the better of him and with the greatest of care, he lifted Blair's arm and slid the book away. The young man snorted, rubbed his hand over his nose, and then drifted off to sleep again.  


Jim sat on the steps and leafed through it, pausing at a lithograph of a warrior, clad in a cloth apron, beads and tattoos on his body and face, holding a spear. He looked like the archetypal noble savage, yet there was something almost other worldly about him as he stared off into the distance, forever trapped in time.  


Then Jim's host gave out a loud snore and a snuffle and woke up, nearly falling out of the hammock, as he did.  


"Careful there, Chief."  


Blair looked at Jim and blinked. "Oh, hey, Jim! Sleep well?"  


"Surprisingly well, thank you. What about you? "  


Blair yawned. "Fine and dandy," he smiled, but then frowned. "Excuse me. That beer from last night is beating at my bladder."  


"Too much information there," Jim said, to Blair's retreating back.  


Blair soon returned. "You want to..." he asked, gesturing back towards the small shed.  


"Already taken care of, thanks," Jim said, with a smile.  


"Right. Good." Then Blair saw what his guest was reading. "Oh, you, erm, found my book."  


Jim closed it, running his fingers over the worn spine, enjoying the feel of the old leather. "Pretty heavy bedtime reading there, Sandburg," he said, handing it over.  


Blair sat down beside him and put his glasses on his face. "I've had it for years. I think I know what's on every page." He lovingly ran his hands over it. "I wanted to do my degree about sentinels, but my tutors advised against it," he finished sadly.  


"And what are 'sentinels'?  


"Were, rather than are, I'm afraid. The book was written by a Victorian Englishman, an explorer; he nearly discovered the source of the Nile River but he fell ill... anyway in 1868 he visited Paraguay, before heading on to Peru and Lima. He went into the jungle and met various tribal people. He discovered that some tribes had special individuals he termed Sentinels. They were tribe members who had all five senses enhanced. They were warriors, scouts, guardians, watchmen, you know, the best of the best?"  


Jim nodded for Blair to continue.  


"I wanted to know if there were any of these people still about. They helped their tribe find food, water, knew when there was a storm coming... and these abilities were passed down in families, like hair or eye color. I was convinced if they lived in the jungle, there must be some in our own society. But so far I've only been able to discover those with one or two highly tuned senses, like wine tasters, perfume testers, in the modern world. It seems that if there was any, with five senses superior to Joe Average's, then their abilities have all but died out," he finished.  


Jim put his hand on Blair's shoulders. "Don't give up there, Chief. People are discovering new tribes every day. You may still find one of these sentinels."  


Blair smiled. "Thanks. So you ready for breakfast?" He stood up.  


Jim stood as well and brushed sand from his trousers. "We going to that bar your mother owns?" he asked.  


Blair laughed. "She does give people that impression, doesn't she! No, she doesn't own it. She just helps out. El Zorrito is owned by a couple who have more or less adopted mom. La Senora Rosa does the cooking." He grinned. "Naomi never gets up for breakfast. But the food there is good, simple and locally sourced, straight from the sea!"  


"As long as it's not too spicy, I have some allergies..."  


*** * ***

They sat in compatible silence eating their 'antojito', which Blair explained was a light breakfast. The cantina catered for the people in the area as well as those who visited. It was busy, mostly with men enjoying a coffee and a chat.  


"Not all food in Mexico is spicy, Jim, as long as you know what to order, but eating is a serious business," Blair said, with a smile and a wiggle of his eyebrows.  


And the food was good and tasty. The company was good too and Jim found that he was enjoying himself.  


Finally, Blair wiped his hands on the paper napkin and leaned back on his chair.  


"What are you diving for?" he asked.  


Jim wiped his mouth. "A plane." And waited for the inevitable sarcastic remark - a plane? Shouldn't you be looking skywards?  


Blair surprised him. "Visibility is poor around these waters and I haven't come across any submerged planes when I'm diving. How long ago was this?"  


"Just around the end of the war. Two Nazis tried to escape justice by traveling to Guatemala. They commandeered a plane and its pilot in France but the plane disappeared off the coast around Acapulco. Our financier is the younger sister of the pilot. She wants to know what happened."  


Blair's eyes widened. "He was way off course."  


Jim nodded. "The sister believes he never wanted them to escape so he downed his plane."  


Blair's eyebrow went up. "Well I can ask some of the older folk; see if they remember anything about a crash."  


"We have a leathery old fisherman who thinks he saw the plane go down, Alfredo?"  


"Oh everyone knows Alfredo!" Blair exclaimed.  


"Is he a trouble maker? He seems a bit too... eager to help."  


"Not so much a trouble maker, more... well you can't be sure if he actually saw something or if he was drunk. No, that's not fair on him." Blair conceded. "He may well have seen the plane hit the water. As I remember, he did a fair bit of taking the wealthy out deep water shark fishing around Roqueta Island. But give him money and you will find him in the bar as soon as it opens and he won't leave until he's thrown out." Blair paused to sip his coffee.  


"Do you have sonar on board your boat?"  


"Yes, Mac has to nurse it along. It's one from a decommissioned ship. Mac treats it like a baby."  


Blair smiled. "So will you be diving today?"  


"No, by the time the rest of the crew are up and nursing their sore heads, the storm will have hit."  


Blair looked out to the open door of the bar. There were a few clouds, but no sign of a storm that he could see. "I guess you learn to read the weather, being out at sea so much," he said, uncertainly.  


Jim shrugged. "As my old housekeeper used to say, 'you can feel rain in the air'."  


A noise from the stairs at the back of the bar caught his attention. He turned to look.  


Blair's mother was standing on the stairs. Her face was pale above the scarlet, silk robe she was wearing. Her feet were bare, and her fingers were gripping the stair rail tightly. She looked as though she would fall head first down the stairs if she loosened her grip.  


"Blair... sweetie..." Her voice was thin and thready.  


Blair was on his feet and rushing over before Jim could speak, the wooden chair he sat on careered over, but Rosa, the lady owner, reached Naomi before Blair. She slipped her arm around Naomi's waist to support her.  


"Go fetch Esme, Blair. She will know what to do."  


Blair hesitated.  


"Go, I will look after your madre until you return with the curandero." She began to help Blair's mother back up the stairs.  


Blair turned to Jim. "I'm sorry. Will you wait?"  


Jim nodded. "Of course."  


Blair gave him a tight smile. "Thanks." Then he ran out of the door.  


Jim stood for a moment, a frown on his face, following the young man with his eyes as Blair ran down the street, then he set Blair's chair upright and walked over to where the owner of the place was wiping glasses.  


"Is there anything I can do to help?" Jim asked.  


"With Senoriata Naomi? Ah no, senor. My wife and the curandero, they will take care of her."  


"Does this happen often?"  


The man hesitated. "She is very ill, but I find it better to leave her in the hands of the ladies."  


"Ill? Is this curandero a doctor then?"  


"She is a healer, senor, and a good woman."  


Before Jim could ask more, Blair came running back in with a tall, round-faced woman, dressed in bright Mexican colors, her long, shiny black hair loose around her shoulders trailing behind him. She stopped Blair as he started up the stairway.  


"No, my son. You wait here. I know what to do and you would just be in the way." She turned and ran up the stairs, her feet barely touching the boards.  


Blair watched her and then returned to Jim at the bar. Miguel brought them two glasses of Tequila and left the bottle. Blair picked his up, took a sip and then downed the drink, reaching for the bottle to pour out another.  


Jim watched as Blair poured the next glass down his throat and reached to pour yet another.  


"What's wrong with your mom, Blair?"  


"She's dying," Blair said flatly, staring at the liquid as though it held the secrets of the world. "The doctors in the States gave her six to eight months. She's already beaten that by a year. When they gave her that diagnosis, she said she refused to just lie down and wait to die. Within a week we were on our way here."  


"I'm sorry, Blair. Is there nothing that can be done?"  


Blair sipped from his glass. "Esme makes her comfortable, but no. Mom has good days and bad ones. Lately there seems to be more bad than good." He put his glass carefully down.  


"What are you going to do when..." Jim didn't finish his words.  


Blair looked out of the doorway. "Honestly? I don't know."  


The curandero appeared at the top of the stairs. "She is sleeping peacefully, Blair. You may see her now."  


Blair took a deep breath, then finished his drink and went up to his mother.  


The curandero came over to Jim. "Senor, if you are a friend to Blair, then take him away from here today. He will only stay waiting by his madre's bedside all day otherwise. Take him out and give him something else to think about. Perhaps get him to give you a tour, take you to La Quebrada."  


Jim nodded slowly. "I can do that."  


"Breno. I will send him down."  


"Are you sure he will agree?"  


"Oh he will agree." She smiled broadly and returned to her patient.  


A few minutes later Blair returned. "I've been evicted," he said, with the ghost of a smile. "Esme suggested I take you on a tour of Acapulco."  


"She suggested something similar to me. She mentioned something called La Quebrada?"  


"Did she? She does like to meddle," Blair added, quietly to himself. "Well, you were right about the storm. I guess we will have to ask Bob if we can borrow his cab."  


Jim realized that the rain was pouring down and he hadn't even noticed. Sheets of warm water were falling from the black clouds above like a million small cannon balls. Already the ground was turning into a paddling pool.  


"Who's Bob?" he asked, distractedly.  


"Bob, or more correctly, Roberto, is one of the two local cab drivers. I tutor his son. The other driver is called Roberto too, so he's known as Rob. Goodness knows what we'd call a third Roberto." It was obviously an old joke and Blair smiled as he said it, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.  


Jim chuckled because he felt he should and followed his new friend out into the rain.  


*** * ***

The storm was causing the earth road to become slippery; streams of water coursed down the road, but it was obvious that Blair was used to those conditions by the way he was driving. Lightning flashed, causing Jim to experience yellow after images. He could hear the thunder roll around for miles. The smell of the rain hitting the previously dry ground sent a rich warm earthy smell into the air.  


Jim rubbed his forehead.  


"Headache?" Blair asked.  


"Uh huh."  


"There are things I've tried with mom, rubbing the pressure points on her forehead, imagining a pain control like a dial and turning it down, that sort of thing."  


"Sounds a bit out there, Chief," Jim said, with a weak smile, "but okay, what do I do?"  


"Really? Great! Okay, let me park up and we'll try something."  


They pulled onto the side of the road.  


"All right. Let's try the breathing technique first. Close your eyes and take a deep breath."  


Jim's eyebrows rose, but he did as he was told.  


"Good, you're doing great, Jim. Now let it out slowly.... Now again with the deep breath, hold it... and then release it. Keep those baby blues closed and breathe normally for me."  


Jim tensed up and went to open his eyes as he felt Blair's fingers on his forehead.  


"Relax! I'm not going to molest you! Jesus!"  


Jim wanted to make some wisecrack, but the feeling of Blair's fingertips gently rubbing circles on each side of his temples felt too good, as though they were rubbing the pain away. He was almost sorry when they stopped and the warm fingers were removed.  


"How's that?"  


Jim opened heavy eyes and smiled a lazy smile. "Good," he said, surprised. "Pain's gone."  


Blair grinned broadly in pleasure. Then he seemed to catch himself. "Okay, on to Fat City."  


The rain clouds had raced away over the jungle, leaving the area steaming with heat. Jim could swear he could hear the plants growing, and the sound of chattering parakeets from the lush green beyond the road.  


The pot-holed side road led onto a smooth, busy two lane highway and Blair must have noticed his companion's surprise that such a road existed just beyond the sleepy town.  


"El Presidente Ruiz Cortines' idea," he explained. "He wants to bring Mexico into the 20th century. He plans to connect all of Mexico up. This road also links to Acapulco's new aerodrome and to Mexico City."  


Blair's voice was somehow soothing and the other noises diminished. "It's certainly modern," Jim said. He hadn't ventured into Acapulco himself before leaving the bright lights to his crew and preferring the quiet little fishing town.  


"Yes. Once Acapulco was a small fishing town, like the one I live in. Then Hollywood discovered the place and with them came the rich and their entourages. It's great that there's jobs for the young, but they lose their roots. They see how the rich live, and compare it with the way their parents and grandparents lived. You look at the Miami style beach homes for the rich and famous, but a few streets back it's a different picture. There's where the staff live, the waiters, bellhops, those who provide a service for the wealthy. They have no large cars or air cons and no one to wait on them."  


Jim turned his head towards Blair. "You don't approve?"  


"I feel it's a shame that so much of their indigenous culture is being westernized. Mexicans are such warm, generous, passionate people, with a unique outlook on life. I'd hate for them to lose that and make money their new god."  


"You a 'red', Chief?"  


"No, are you?"  


"No!"  


"Thought not." Blair grinned. "You are totally white bread, man."  


His grin grew wider as Jim scoffed and Jim turned away to hide a smile. He didn't know what it was about this guy, but Jim found he really enjoyed being around him.  


"Ruiz isn't a bad politician," Blair added. "He's trying to stop the widespread corruption in the government and, as well as the roads, he's building railways, dams, schools and hospitals. He's also trying to find ways of fighting malaria and improving living conditions; also he's giving Mexican women the vote!"  


"So it's not all bad then, Chief?"  


Blair shook his head, his hair flying around his smiling face. "No, not all bad. I expect Mexicans will find a way to keep their story going.  


"Sorry, I can't stop being an anthropologist. I'm fascinated about what makes Mexico, Mexican, like what makes Jim Ellison, Jim Ellison. You are a jock, all 'mom's apple pie, white picket fence', but that's not all you, is it?"  


"It was our housekeeper Sally's apple pie, and dad would have gone for a high wall with barbed wire on the top, rather than a picket fence... but if I told you any more, I'd have to kill you," Jim said, grinning.  


Blair chuckled.  


They reached the top of the hill leading to the steep sided, tightly curving bay and the town of Acapulco came into view. Jim could see the shimmering towers of glass and concrete built in the new fashion of curves and pillars, reflecting the 'atomic age' they lived in, butted up to the little two-story white and pink houses of the older town. He could make out the sky reaching, balconied, plush hotel blocks, the bright lights - even in daytime - of a casino, leading down towards a broad golden beach, full of sunshades with palm thatch and, already now that the storm had blown through, reclining sun worshippers in the open sided palapas, and beyond that was the harbor with expensive yachts and 'wannabe captains' who probably couldn't pilot a boat in a swimming pool. There would be fancy restaurants, a shopping mall or two, and the odd soda fountain blasting out 'Here in my Heart' by Al Martino from the jukeboxes; everything glitziness and glamour, and behind all the artificial, there was the green foothills of the Sierra.  


They passed huge advertising hoardings which strode along the sandy road announcing, both in Spanish and English, that this or that was being built here, behind which bulldozers moved, clearing away the old adobes which belonged to the past and had no place in the shiny new future. One of the billboards had a picture of a shapely, young, fair-skinned woman, lying on the beach in a two piece swim suit, while a handsome man was taking her picture. 'Jantzen' it read in large letters, 'Lastex Nylon'. The one underneath had a similar female advertising Nivea cream. Jim had an idea that soon everywhere would look more or less the same, just with different names. He had to admit that he could well understand Blair's attitude to the new Acapulco.  


*** * ***

On the coastal boulevard, they passed an impressive looking church with twin towers sitting in a large plaza.  


"That's the Nuestra Senora de la Soledad, Our Lady of Solitude, cathedral. Would you believe it was built as a movie set? And now it's been adapted into the church," Blair explained. "Later on I'll show you the San Diego Fort, which was built in 1616 to protect the city from pirate attack! You would think the whole place should be the backdrop in a movie."  


Street vendors were arranging their wares for passing tourists. Jim saw green jade, silver and polished coconut husks displayed on small strips of black velvet. A group of Indian women dressed in brightly woven 'huipile' tunics sat amongst them; their products on mats and in baskets under the stalls. The old and the new sitting side by side.  


They finally pulled up in the parking lot around the back of one of the high rise hotels.  


"So let me introduce you to some of my ladies," Blair said, as he parked.  


Jim suddenly had a bad taste in his mouth. "I don't think that will be necessary, Sandburg."  


"Oh don't be such a prude, Jim! You'll enjoy the experience, believe me! Come on."  


Jim had little choice but to follow Blair to the back of the Los Flamingos hotel and the kitchen door.  


Blair knocked three times and Jim heard footsteps approach before a tall man with a long droopy moustache opened the door and peered out. He swung the door open wide as he recognized Blair.  


"Senor Blair! Come in, come in!"  


"Hola, Carlo. I've just come for my ladies."  


Carlo laughed loudly and deeply. "I'm sure they will be delighted to see you, my friend. I have heard some of them crying when I pass by their doors!"  


"Oh, I'd better get a move on!"  


_Crying?_ Jim thought. He tried again. "Blair, why don't I duck out and wait for you in reception. You don't want me around for this."  


This time Blair just shook his head, and took Jim's hand, pulling him along through the kitchen, getting cat calls and greetings from the kitchen staff as they went.  


He finally released Jim as they stepped through a swing door into the large, grand Reception area of the hotel. Jim felt the warmth of his hand slowly melt away and he found himself clenching his hand into a fist to keep a hold of that feeling. Blair seemed to be blithely ignorant of the affect he had on Jim.  


The young man quickly pulled his hair into a pony tail, fastening it with a band.  


"Hallo Maria, que tal?" He called out to the pretty young woman on duty behind the desk. "Any of my ladies ready for me?"  


She laughed. "Ah, Blair," she said, flirtatiously, resting her chin on her hands and winking at him, "When will you pay me as much attention? I'd like to be petted and pampered too!"  


"Maria," Blair said, his voice dropping an octave, "you know your boyfriend would hit me if I did and my ladies would so be jealous and snap at me."  


"Oh we cannot have that!" She laughed and handed him a piece of paper. "Senora Rothschild was asking for you and also Senora Bechem, rooms 114 and 216."  


"Thanks." Blair turned towards the elevator across the lobby.  


"Oh, and Blair?"  


He stopped and half turned. "Yes, Maria?"  


"Clair asked if you could see to Senors Teddy and Bunskii tomorrow?"  


"Damn! They get over excited and it took ages for me to calm them down last time."  


He sighed. "Okay, Maria. Thanks again."  


"I thought you didn't do men?" Jim whispered as they walked away.  


"Ah, I don't attend those types of actor parties. These are special cases. They both get too frisky and they tire out their mistresses. Their maids are grateful too. They don't want to play games if they are worn out!"  


Jim's mouth fell open. "Jesus, Sandburg!"  


Blair just laughed and headed towards the elevator with Jim following reluctantly.  


"I'll just wait for you here," he said determinedly.  


Blair sighed. "Just give me a little more of your time, Jim, please?"  


Jim looked at Blair's face and just crumbled. This was something the kid really wanted to share with him, something really important. Maybe Blair was in some kind of trouble. Maybe he needed someone for moral support.  


"Okay, but if I feel uncomfortable I leave."  


Blair nodded. "Absolutely. No sweat. If you feel uncomfortable you can cut out, no problemento."  


Jim shook his head in exasperation and amusement.  


The teenage bellhop in his smart blue uniform with white piping, stood back to allow the two men in and sent the elevator to the floor they requested.  


A few minutes later there was a 'ping' and the doors opened and Blair led the way along the plushy carpeted corridor to room number 114, (picked out on an embossed door label), and he knocked at the door. A moment later Jim heard soft footsteps and a young Hispanic woman wearing a black dress and a starched white apron, opened the door.  


Blair smiled. "Hi, Angelica. How's my sweetheart today."  


Before she could answer, a voice called out, "Mr. Sandburg! Come in, come in. What are you thinking of, Angelica, keeping the gentleman on the doorstep?"  


The maid stood back and allowed Jim and Blair into the main suite.  


On a well-padded couch sat an equally well-padded middle-aged lady. She was wearing tailored clothes which Jim thought were a little too young for her, and her neck, ears, arms, and fingers were covered in pearls, rings, bracelets, earrings, necklace, all matching. And she seemed to have bathed in 'Epaules Blanche' parfume.  


Blair took her hands in his.  


"And how is the most beautiful woman in Acapulco today?"  


She blushed. "Oh, Mr. Sandburg, you are such a flirt!" She laughed and gazed at Jim with frank interest. "And who is this handsome companion of yours?"  


"My name is..." Jim began.  


"This is Jim," Blair interrupted. "He's come along to protect me from predatory females." He winked and Mrs. Rothschild laughed.  


"And what does Jim do?" she asked, refusing to be distracted.  


"I'm a diver, ma'am."  


"Oh, like dear Mister Sandburg?"  


"No, Ellen. Jim is a deep sea diver. He hunts for treasure."  


"Well you certainly have found treasure in this gentleman. I keep trying to persuade him to become my next husband."  


"Ellen, George is alive and well!"  


"I know, but a girl has to plan for the future!" She winked broadly at Jim.  


A yapping sound broke into their conversation.  


"That's my Precious, getting impatient. She really loves Blair. Angelica treats her like a dog, when we know she's really a hairy human."  


Jim was still puzzled, but he thought he could see through the mist.  


"Angelica!" the woman let out a shrill yell. "Where is my Precious?"  


"Coming madam."  


The maid returned with a struggling ball of white fluff held at arm's length. Two black dots stared at Jim but as soon as they switched to Blair the animal struggled even harder to get away.  


"Oh for pity's sake, put her down, Angelica."  


As soon as she was released, the dog threw itself at Blair who picked her up. She immediately tried to give his face a tongue bath wiggling in his hands.  


Blair laughed and held her a little way off. "Whoa there, Precious!"  


"She just adores you, Blair. You are so good with her."  


Blair smiled. "She knows I'm an easy touch for the ladies, Ellen! What is in her diary today?"  


"She needs her fur and nails done today. She can be walked before then she will look beautiful afterwards."  


"Understood." The dog quieted down as Blair managed to hold her under his arm.  


"Do you have any other pets to attend to today?" Ellen asked, nonchalantly, brushing a nonexistent bit of fluff from her skirt.  


"Now Ellen, we've been through this. All my charges are special, you know that."  


"I know, but Precious is so... precious. You mustn't let those nasty boys near her."  


"No, it's ladies day today."  


"Good." She got up to give her dog a kiss. "Be a good girl for mommy." Then she pressed something into Blair's hand. "Thank you, Mr. Sandburg."  


"Thank you, Mrs. Rothschild."  


*** * ***

Once out in the corridor, Blair slipped a lead on the energetic Precious and she sat at his command, looking at him with adoration in her little eyes her furry tail thumping against the carpet.  


"How much did she give you?" Jim asked.  


"You really are nosy, aren't you." Blair opened his fist to reveal a hand full of ten dollar bills.  


Jim whistled. "You're a rich man, Sandburg."  


"This is already spent. I need to collect a parcel and pay for it. I have Naomi's medicine sent from the States. She would go ape if she discovered that the drugs Esme gives her come from the white coats in a lab rather than natural remedies. So don't spill, okay? But getting it sent costs money and this job of dog walking is seasonal; people like the Rothschilds return home and I have to find other ways of earning a living."  


"So these are your ladies, the dogs?"  


"Yep." Blair grinned.  


"You lied to me."  


"No, you assumed. There's a difference. And on occasion Mrs. Rothschild and co have asked me to accompany them to an event or to dinner. They are old world enough that they feel a lady shouldn't go out alone. That was no lie. "  


"And they pay you for your company."  


"Not always. Sometimes I just get a free meal out of it. They pass me the money to pay the bill because they like to keep up the appearance of the man paying for the meal. Look, I don't see your problem here. I'm performing a service, a legit one. They get to go out and socialize where as normally they would be stuck in a hotel room alone."  


Jim held his hands up. "Gee, Chief. I'm only trying to understand your situation."  


"Yeah, well, I don't want you getting the wrong idea about my clients."  


"Or you."  


"Or me." Blair looked up at Jim. "Right. Now we have that sorted, let's get these ladies organized. You'd better hold Precious' lead while I collect Fifi. Once both dogs are in neutral territory they behave themselves, but if I take Precious into Fifi's domain, there could be fur flying, and not just with the dogs!"  


Another floor and another hotel room later, Blair emerged from another hotel room with the ugliest dog Jim had ever seen.  


"That's Fifi?"  


Blair laughed and bent to cover the dog's ears. "Shhh, you'll hurt her feelings!" He straightened up again. "Fifi was rescued by her owner's daughter. She'd been left by the side of the road and Lucy saw her, made her parents stop the car and dragged the dog in. She's been their pet ever since."  


"Do you walk these mutts every day?"  


"No, the maids and the Hall Boys walk them twice a day, but the owners send for me if the dogs have a beauty appointment or if they need to work off some of their energy. And don't let anyone hear you call them 'mutts', or I'll lose my clients! Now come on, let's drop these animals off at the beauty parlor and then I can show you the sights of Acapulco."  


*** * ***

The town was everything Jim had expected and disliked, Blair however, proved to be an entertaining tour guide pointing out things that Jim was sure he would have missed, but he had a feeling that his friend was dragging his feet over something.  


As the shadows of the street lined palm trees stretched over the tarmac, they sat enjoying tortillas filled with melted cheese in one of the cheaper snack bars on the strip. Blair was well known and liked, by all the greetings he got as they walked in.  


Jim decided to test the waters.  


"So where or what is 'La Quebrada'?" he asked.  


Blair's face took on a blank expression. "La Quebrada literally means a break, or ravine. In this case it's the area where young men go diving from the top of the cliff into the narrow cove below. It's a big tourist attraction. They come to see divers risk their lives, and at night they dive with lit torches."  


"Sounds impressive, Chief," Jim said, sure that there was more to it than Blair was telling him. "You mind if we take a look?"  


Blair wiped his mouth on a napkin, and then wiped his hands. "Of course I don't mind," he said, getting up from his seat.  


Blair waved goodbye to the staff, and walked out to where the car was parked, Jim following.  


_You've got a good poker face, Sandburg. I just wish I knew what you are hiding,_ Jim thought.  


They drove up the steep road along the hibiscus-covered hillside away from the town and its golden sands, without Blair saying a word, the silence feeling almost heavy to Jim in the passenger seat.  


Finally Blair pulled over and got out.  


"That's La Quebrada," he said, pointing to a narrow cove with a huge cliff, with rocks at the base, where the sea had taken a sharp bite out of the cliff. He led Jim down a stepped, steep path to a flat viewing area boarded by a low wall, looking across to a towering, banded rock face. Jim looked over to where the sea battered against the rocks on either side of the steep ravine, sending white foam up into the air. The yellow and grey rock had narrow ledges and there was a spot light aimed towards the sea. The only way to reach the top seemed to be climbing up from the sea, which was exactly what some young, sun-bronzed boys were doing, climbing up a short way and leaping off into the spray, hollering and screaming as they did, before disappearing under the waves, only to emerge triumphant and laughing, wiping the water from their faces and swimming over to climb up and do it again.  


Jim couldn't help but smile at the sheer pleasure on their faces. His eyes traveled upwards to the top of the cliff below the cloudless sky. He whistled. "Takes some guts to jump from the top there. How high is it?"  


Blair sat on the stone bench facing away from the cliff. "About a hundred and fourteen from the top. The water is about twelve feet deep at that point. You have to be aware of the turning of the tide and jump into the center of the water. The skill lies in making it look death-defying and dangerous. Teddy Stauffer pays young daredevils to dive in front of his night club windows for his patrons."  


"It still looks scary to me! Is that a church up there?"  


Blair turned his head, shielding his eyes and squinting to look to where Jim was pointing.  


"You must mean the shrine to la Virgin de Guadalupe. You've got good eye sight if you can see the grotto from here. You're supposed to ask for her protection before you dive."  


"Sounds as though you know something about diving from there."  


"Yes, I've done it." Blair looked off into the distance.  


"You are a bundle of surprises, Chief. You've got a set of balls, I'll give you that."  


Blair ducked his head and chuckled. "Thanks."  


"Did you just take a leap in the dark or did someone show you the ropes?"  


"I had someone. He's dead now."  


"I'm sorry, Blair. What happened?"  


"He dived while drunk. End of story." Blair stood abruptly. "Come on, let's head back into town."  


Jim wasn't sure what else to say. That plainly wasn't the end of the story, but his friend didn't appear to want to share it with him, so he let it drop - for now.  


*** * ***

As they drove along the main street of the town, Jim saw someone waving at them. _Great,_ he thought, _Alfredo! Wonder what he wants!_ The old fisherman had spruced himself up; his shirt looked almost clean and was tucked into his shiny trousers and suspenders. His hair was plastered down with grease and instead of his usual worn out sandals; he wore a pair of black leather shoes. His usual cigarette end was tucked behind his ear.  


"That looks like Alfredo," Blair said. "He doesn't come into Acapulco very much. God, I hope it's nothing to do with mom!"  


He pulled over. Alfredo was practically jumping up and down trying to grab their attention.  


"Ellison! Ellison!"  


Before Jim could wind down the car window, Alfredo was tapping against it.  


"Senor Lopez is looking for you. The backer, she is here!"  


Jim opened the car door causing Alfredo to step back.  


"Here? Calm down, man. You're not making any sense," Jim said.  


"She flew in this morning. Lopez was sent for. She wants to meet you. She is here, in the hotel!"  


Jim sighed and turned to Blair. "Looks like our tour is over, Sandburg."  


Blair nodded. "If you're not going to be in there too long, I'll hang around and drive you back. I've got to pick up the pooches anyway."  


"Thanks. Don't know why she had to visit in person though."  


"Guess she'll tell you."  


"Hmmm."  


*** * ***

She was stunning, tall and slim, with eyes the color of a stormy ocean, and auburn hair that tumbled in waves to her shoulders. She hooked one side carefully over a shell-like ear as she looked at Jim.  


"Mademoiselle Dominique Olivier?"  


"Ah, Monsieur Ellison. The desk told me you were on your way up." She smiled. "My associates told me you were tall and used to belong to the American navy. Entrez, s'il vous plait." She stood back, holding the door open for Jim to step in.  


"Do you speak French, Monsieur?"  


"No ma'am, the Navy thought I'd find German and Japanese more useful."  


"Then we will converse in English."  


Inside her suite of rooms were two men, both strikingly athletic, with blue-eyes and short blond hair. They were wearing well-cut grey suits and black polo neck sweaters as they lounged on the couch, smoking French cigarettes. They stood as Jim came in.  


"It is actually Madam Olivier. Sadly my husband passed away some little while ago," she said as she stepped in front of Jim.  


"My apologies and sympathies, Madam."  


"Thank you. I am used to the situation now. These are, as you say, my body guards." She indicated the two men with a wave of her hand and laughed. "Non, I must not tease. They are my late husband's nephews, Philippe and Marco. They came to keep an eye on me. Is that the correct phrase? My English is sometimes a little... poor."  


"You are doing just fine, Madam." Jim smiled. "Gentlemen," he nodded in greeting to the two men who looked at Jim with blank expressions then nodded in return, before dismissing him to go and look out of the window.  


"They speak English less than myself. Please, excuse me."  


She spoke rapidly in French to the two men who had turned to face her and appeared to argue but finally they stubbed out their cigarettes in the already full ashtray and then left the room, reluctantly it seemed to Jim.  


"So, please sit, Monsieur Ellison. They are averse to leaving me alone with a stranger, but you are ex navy, and a captain at that. I feel I can trust you."  


"Thank you, but they are probably right to want you to be on your guard with people you don't know."  


She smiled. "You and I, we have survived a war. Now it is time to live a little, do you not agree? But first, I must bury some ghosts. I have sent the nephews away to see to the equipment. They are the frogman suits." She sat, demurely placing her hands in the lap of the pencil skirt of her dogtooth patterned suit. "I am, however, concerned about your lack of progress in the search for my brother. I had such high hopes that you would have some sign of the plane by now."  


"And I had hoped to have news for you. However, the reports you had of where his plane crashed into the sea have been... perhaps a bit vague? Wreckage that would go down in one locale could be yards away and hidden by mud by now or even completely broken up and dispersed. We have expanded the general search area, but with the recent storms the sea bed has been disturbed and churned up, visibility is not great, and the bulky diving suits have slowed us down."  


"That is why I have bought two suits with me."  


"Two, Madam?"  


"I intend to dive myself. I feel I should take an active role in the search. I have had scuba diving experience and would like a chance to take a look for myself, if you don't mind that is?"  


This was something Jim wasn't expecting. "Of course not, I'm surprised that's all."  


"That a woman can dive? Really, Monsieur! How old fashioned of you."  


Jim shook his head. "Forgive me, Madam Olivier, but it's not about your gender, it's about how proficient are your diving skills. Scuba diving can be risky. You're employing me to take those risks. It would be negligent of me not to make sure you have the experience to tackle any problems, and ensure we are both safe down there."  


She walked across the room to where her purse sat on a sideboard, and pulled out a piece of paper. "I have a certificate from Monsieur Emile Gagnan, perhaps this will reassure you? I also have my own snorkel, equipment, and fins."  


Jim scanned the paper in his hand. "I'm impressed, Madam, Gagnan is well known within the world of scuba diving. To train with him must have been an experience."  


She smiled tightly. "So, tomorrow, perhaps you could get your maps out and you can show me where you have searched? We can meet in the village where Monsieur Lopez said your boat is moored and you can show me there."  


Jim nodded. "We can meet after breakfast at the cantina in the town, Madam. It's called El Zorrito." He paused. "I should warn you, there are strong undercurrents in some areas of the sea around here."  


"And I am a strong swimmer." She stood. "Tomorrow, then Monsieur Ellison, around nine thirty. Thank you for coming. It has been good to put a face to the name." She smiled and held out her hand.  


Jim shook it politely and left. The two nephews were leaning up against the wall in the corridor outside, talking quietly in French. They stopped as they saw Jim and he could feel the weight of their eyes on his back as he walked away. The elevator 'pinged' and a flustered Lopez almost ran along the corridor.  


"You saw her?"  


"Madam Olivier? Yes."  


"Good. Good. Then you know she plans to dive with you?"  


"She told me that, yes."  


Lopez shook his head. "Women should really leave these things to the experts instead of telling us how things should be done! But she is paying the bills. I will see you on the boat, Senor Ellison."  


Jim watched for a moment as the man scurried away and, with a short nod at the nephews, knocked at Olivier's room door. Jim turned away as it was opened and Lopez admitted.  


*** * ***

Jim emerged from the hotel to find Blair taking part in an impromptu juggling display. One guy was sitting high up on a tall unicycle and tossing his brightly colored clubs back and forth down to Blair. Jim was impressed at the speed and dexterity with which Blair caught and threw them back.  


The display was skillful and entertaining as the clubs spun in the air, faster and faster... and then time stopped.  


Jim blinked.  


There was loud applause as with a final flourish the unicycle rider caught all the clubs in his one hand and fell forward with a tumble to land on his feet and then bowed, waving his hand to include Blair in the round of applause.  


Blair, however, was watching Jim, but he turned back, laughed and took a fast bow of his own before running over to Jim.  


Jim applauded Blair, hoping to distract his friend from Jim's lapse and avoid any awkward questions as the young man reached him. "Juggling as well, Sandburg? You are a man of many talents."  


Blair smiled. "It seems I have a natural flair for it!" he said, with a good natured shrug.  


"There a circus in town?" Jim nodded his head to indicate the performers who had launched into a display of acrobatics.  


"No, no. They're street performers. They come into town every now and then, and perform for small change and food. They have been to the cantina and put on a show for Naomi, Rosa and Miguel. That's where they taught me some tricks. Can't unicycle though. I can't balance on it."  


Jim smiled.  


"Where did Alfredo go?" he asked, looking around.  


"Oh he decided he was going to try it on with some of the babes on the beach! I'm not sure he'll have much luck around them though. Even scrubbed up, he doesn't look like their type."  


Blair paused and glanced up at Jim. "What's your banker like?"  


"Not your type. Two long legs, not four, and not hairy enough for your taste."  


"Ha ha! Very funny.... So is she your type then?"  


"Fishing, Chief? Didn't think you would be that interested. I don't know. There's something about the set up, something shady there. She has these two bodyguards with her, very blond, chiseled physique; she said they are her nephews."  


"Hmmm, I shall look out for them. Maybe she just feels more comfortable with male friends around."  


"Maybe...."  


"Come on, Sherlock, let's get you back to your boat."  


The wheels of the car purred as they drove back into the quiet dusk of the fishing town.  


*** * ***

Jim spread his maps over the cleared table in the cantina. "This is the area we've covered so far. As you can see, from what you told me of the path your brother planned to take, it's a large area to search."  


Olivier and Lopez were studying the maps, while her 'bodyguards' were propping up the bar with Alfredo. His glass sat empty and he was eyeing the bottles behind the counter with desire in his eyes.  


Jim felt on edge after a disturbed night where he dreamt of a wolf and a jaguar leaping towards each other in a blue jungle. It left him feeling weird and out of sorts. Now he had a twitchy, uneasy feeling and he wasn't sure if it was just the bizarre dream. Maybe he really was going crazy.  


The two men were sitting, watching all the while, while Olivier studied the maps with an intensity that matched the look on Alfredo's for the drink. It was almost as if she was willing the wreck of her brother's plane to magically appear on the map. Jim couldn't get the picture of two lions watching while a lioness considered their hunting ground. But what or who was their prey?  


He pulled his thoughts back as he realized Olivier had asked him a question.  


"So my brother's flight plan and also the letter he left, said that he was flying to the Ivory Coast, from there to Brazil, refueling again in Panama, and onto Guatemala, where his passengers had contacts. Instead he flew beyond and crashed into the waters off the Sierra Madre coast. Senor Alfredo said he saw my brother's plane go down here." She placed a well manicured finger on the map.  


"Yes, Madam, but as I said, the storms have disturbed the sea bed and anything as light as a small plane could end up some distance from where it crashed. After all these years, and with the currents around here, any remains could be scattered and broken up. We started our search where Alfredo suggested, and extended outwards from there..."  


Just then Blair burst in through the door of the cantina. "Jim, Jim! I have to talk to you!" He skidded to a halt as he realized Jim had company and they were all staring at him.  


Jim moved quickly, catching Blair with his hand under the young man's elbow and propelling him out.  


"Not now, Chief. Whatever it is will have to wait! I'll see you later," he whispered, hurriedly.  


"But Jim...."  


"Later!"  


Jim went back inside.  


"Sorry about that. He's... er, got an old book written by some crazy old explorer about a lost tribe or something. Seems to think I could help him find them with my boat," Jim said, thinking on his feet.  


"And you do not wish to help him?" Madam Olivier asked.  


"I'd rather rely on something more concrete than an old book."  


"Like a tale from a fisherman about a plane crash from years ago perhaps?"  


Her remark caused a chuckle from Lopez and a wry smile from Jim at the reference to Alfredo who was so caught up in the vain hope someone would offer him a drink, laughed too.  


"Well I'd prefer an actual, physical location in both cases."  


"So, when do we dive?"  


"We dive mid-morning, Madam. Once the sun hits the water, it makes visibility difficult so we dive when the sun is at the right angle to the water. We are gradually expanding our search in a spiral outwards...."  


At the top of the stairs, Blair's mother quietly stepped away, unnoticed by the group below, and returned to her room.  


*** * ***

Once the Sweetheart had reached the diving spot for the day, Madam Olivier unceremoniously pulled her off her dress, lifting it over her head to reveal a pink two-piece swimsuit. All the men on the boat watched her. She tied back her hair and began to dust her body and wetsuit with powder to stop it sticking to her skin as she pulled it on. She totally ignored the looks the men were giving her, though Jim was positive she knew full well the effect she was having on them. He turned his attention to his own preparations and checks. Once ready they both took a leap from the back of the boat, into the sea.  


Unencumbered by his metal suit, Jim was able to truly enjoy the freedom of swimming in the water. He and Olivier dived for around twenty minutes, time enough for Jim to know she wasn't lying about her diving skills, but as they emerged from the water at the end of the dive, and were helped on board the boat, they encountered a fracas between Olivier's step-nephews and Jack. Mac was trying to hold the men apart, his arms stretched out between them but the younger men had more strength and seemed determined to fight one another. Alfredo was standing, a sly grin on his face, while the two Mexican lads waited for an opportunity to step in, and Lopez got his bandana out to wipe the nervous sweat from the back of his neck.  


Jim pulled off his fins and dropped his mask on the deck and then waded in, pulling Jack back just as one of the French men pulled out a switch blade.  


To everyone's surprise, Madam Olivier stepped up to the one holding the knife and slapped him roundly on the face with her hand. Everyone fell quiet. She held out her hand and the man slowly put the knife in it. She then dropped it over board with a look of impatient irritation.  


"Okay," said Jim, breaking the silence. "I don't know what's been going on here, but once we are out of these suits we head back to shore for everyone to cool down. We'll search another area tomorrow, if I can leave you children alone without any squabbling?"  


There was some soft rueful chuckles from Jim's crew and both parties stepped away from each other, but there was a great deal of tension left as the boat began to chug towards the coast.  


Once back on land, Olivier's two nephews started to say something to her, but she held up her hand. "Non! Enough!" and she led the way back to Lopez's car and waited for him to hop in and drive them away.  


Meanwhile Jim cornered Jack.  


"Okay, you want to tell me what went on?"  


Jack sighed and ran his hand over the back of his neck. "You know I learnt to speak French to chat up the Mademoiselles, Skip? Well those two guys were standing by the bulkhead, just chatting away, smoking their fancy perfumed cigarettes. I wasn't paying them any mind - at first, then I realized they were talking about Madam Olivier, and believe me, it wasn't the kind of talk you make about a lady! I chose to ignore it, but then they started on what shit our boat is, how stupid Americans really are and so on. They really bugged me. And I got riled up enough to answer them in French and before I know what's going on, well you saw, they are threatening me with a knife! If you hadn't stepped in..."  


His voice died away.  


Jim sighed. "Just try and keep your head down. With any luck, now they know you understand what they are saying, they'll keep their mouths shut." He gently squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Get some rest. We'll have another full day out there tomorrow!"  


*** * ***

Jim ate his evening meal and then left the cantina. There was one thing he needed to do and that was put things right with Blair Sandburg. He didn't want any of the Olivier family to know anything about Blair; this was his personal business. He took a deep breath and started walking along the beach.  


It was almost pitch black; there was no moon in the sky, but thousands of stars sparkled at him. Still he could see his way along as though drawn to one spot, a distant tiny, yellow light flickering between the bushes and the sand. Nocturnal noises came and went around him as the night animals called to one another.  


As he drew near he hesitated. He felt Blair deserved an explanation of Jim's behavior that morning, but Jim wasn't sure what to say to him. "Chief, I had a weird dream last night which is somehow connected to you and me, and I felt that I needed to keep you from getting involved with the French trio" sounded, well, downright crazy!  


Just as Jim reached the cabin, the small light within went out and the faint whiff of smoke drifted out of the dwelling. Jim almost turned back, but he'd come this far, and no one could say Jim Ellison was a coward.  


He knocked gently on the door. "Blair? I guess you are getting ready to sleep, but I really need to talk to you, to explain."  


He paused. There was no sound from within, but he had the strangest feeling that Blair was listening.  


"You remember I mentioned that feeling I had back at the hotel that there is something shady going on? I can't shake it, and well, maybe I'm going crazy, but I just don't want you involved with all this."  


Jim leaned his head against the wall of the cabin, and then straightened up.  


"Okay, maybe I'll be able to speak to you tomorrow evening. I'll be diving in the morning again."  


He waited for a second and then started to turn away, only to hear rustling and then Blair swear as a lamp was lit.  


"Jim, wait! Damn!"  


"You okay in there, Chief?"  


The door swung open and a disheveled Blair stood in the glow of the light. "Come in, come in."  


Blair limped in first.  


Jim's frown grew deeper. "What happened to your foot?"  


"What? Oh this! I stubbed my foot as I tried to stop myself from falling out of bed and get to the door to stop you from going."  


He sat on the bed and rubbed his sock covered foot.  


"Sit, sit... oh."  


He got up and removed a pile of books from the only chair in the room.  


Jim carefully sat down as Blair looked around for somewhere to place the books only to just drop them on the floor.  


"So, erm, you remember my book, Sentinels of Paraguay? The one you rescued when I would have dropped it? You said something about I shouldn't give up my hope of finding one? Well, I have, Jim, it's you! You're my holy grail, man!"  


Jim felt bewildered and it showed.  


"You're losing me here, Chief."  


"Right. Okay. You know I've been searching for a modern day Sentinel, someone with all five senses heightened? When I got back from Acapulco yesterday there were a lot of things going on in my head, things you told me, things I noticed from your reactions. You said you heard voices when you couldn't possibly have heard them, your sense of smell and taste drive you crazy, food that is either too bland or off the wall. You even wear clothes that are well washed and worn. On top of that you have high moral standards. Jim, you are a sentinel, a behavioral throwback to a pre-civilized breed of man!"  


He waited for Jim's reaction. It didn't take long.  


"Are you losing your mind?" Jim said, angrily. "I think you're a pretty straight up, decent guy and then you lay this shit on me?" he said, advancing on Blair.  


Blair put both hands onto Jim's chest to halt his progress. "No, no, listen to me. This is a good thing! The sentinel would watch for approaching enemies, a change in the weather, movement of game; the tribe's survival depended on him. The things you experienced during the war, the solitary nature of diving, they could have turned your senses on."  


Jim's anger quickly abated and he shook his head. "It doesn't feel like a good thing. More like a nightmare that has never gone away. I just want to be normal, to get rid of this misery."  


"There's the thing, I don't have a clue how to turn them off again. But why would you want to. They could be so useful to you."  


"Only if I could control them, stop them driving me insane...."  


"Now that I have some ideas about! There's one other thing, the book suggested that when a Sentinel is working, he can become oblivious of the outside world, rather like putting blinders on a horse. Usually he had someone to watch his back, a companion, if you will."  


"You?"  


"I'd love to, I mean, I don't have any experience, but then I don't know anyone alive today who does. However, like I said, I do have some ideas. If you are not too tired, we could run through some simple tests to see how your senses could work?"  


"Okay, where do we start?"  


"Okay, I want you to think of each of your senses as a tank, like your oxygen tanks. Each one has a label on it; sight, hearing, smell... normally they are all around the equal mark, maybe a little more on one than another. But if the valve shows one is too high, then that's not good, equally if one shows too low, that's bad. You have that control, the ability to turn that valve, to dial it up or down."  


"Really? A tank of smell?"  


"Think of it as guided visualization. I promise it will help. It will just take practice. Maybe I can take you up on top of the church bell-tower and see what details you can pick out from the surroundings, but right now, let's go through each sense in turn...."  


*** * ***

The tests were both enlightening and frustrating. Jim felt more at ease now that he knew he wasn't a basket case, and that, with the proper training, he could live a normal life, sort of, but the control wasn't happening as fast as he'd hoped. He was also tired. They had pushed his senses to a great degree; stretching out his hearing, his sight, even his sense of smell, till his head was spinning and both men had to take a rest. Jim had insisted on taking the hammock, allowing Blair his own bed. Strangely it was the reassuring sound of Blair's snoring which sent Jim into slumber, and the bright light of day which woke him up. Luckily the next diving wasn't going to happen until late morning, or he would have kept everyone waiting.  


Leaving a note on a scrap of paper he found, Jim left his friend sleeping and went to check on his crew.  


*** * ***

Jim found Mac fishing with Jose and Rafael.  


"Lady at the bar said she'd cook anything we find, Jim. You know any good sauce that goes with old boot?"  


Mac held up a sodden boot.  


Jim joined in the laughter. "Looks like that is well past its best, Mac. Maybe you can see if you can find its twin you can give them a decent burial!  


Mac chuckled. "Aye, maybe you're right there. Come on lads, time to pack away our rods and get the boat ready, right, Skip?"  


"Yes, I expect Madam Olivier will be here soon. Anyone seen Jack?"  


"He went to get the tanks, Skip, down by the hut." Mac frowned. "Funny he hasn't come back yet."  


"That's not like Jack." Jim said. He could hear the tell-tale machine-gun clatter of the air compressor. He picked that up with no problem, but over it he could hear someone moaning and the sound of flesh hitting flesh.  


"Mac, we'd better check on him. You two get back to the boat in case the lady arrives."  


Jim started to run towards the hut followed by Mac.  


The concrete shack was a few yards down and set back from the beach and any houses. Jim cautiously slowed down as he got near, but as he rounded the corner, he found Jack struggling to get to his feet with blood pouring from his head.  


"Jesus, Jack, what the hell happened?" Jim helped steady Jack onto his feet.  


"I don't know, Skip." Jack wiped his head with a rag. "Shit!" he said as he saw the blood.  


"Ah, laddie...." Mac said, helping Jack stand.  


Jim checked the wound out. "Head wounds always bleed worse than they are," he said, as much to reassure himself as his friends.  


"I was in the shack, monitoring the compressor," Jack said, slowly, "and I came out for a cigarette. I was grabbed and my arms pinned behind me. Then this other guy started punching me." He rubbed his shoulder and flinched. "Don't know why they attacked me, or who they were, their faces were covered with sacks with eye holes cut out. Whoever they are, I hope they're sore in the morning. I kicked one in the groin and head butted the other... ooooh." Jack doubled over. "I guess they got me good!"  


"You need someone to check you over. Come on, I know just the lady."  


"Ahhh, Skip. I'm in no condition to see some nice dame."  


"Jack, I hate to tell you this, but you never are! They take one look and run the other way!"  


"...to run straight into your arms..." Jack laughed, but then moaned. He doubled over again.  


"Don't make me laugh, Jim, it hurts!" He struggled to straighten up and Mac helped him. "What about the compressor?"  


"I can hear it rattling happily away. Mac'll check it out."  


Mac nodded. "Aye lad, don't you worry about that."  


"Let's get you fixed up," Jim said.  


With Jack's arm over Jim's shoulder and, with his arm supporting Jack, they began the slow walk back along the road.  


A young boy was kicking a ball about in the street.  


"Do you know where the curandero lives?" Jim asked.  


"Si, senor," the boy pointed as he stared at Jack, "mi madre sometimes has to take me to her when I am ill, but oh, she is a she-bear! The medicine she give me it is terrible!" The boy made to put his fingers down the back of his mouth as though being sick. "But if your friend wants to risk it, she has a room around the back of the cantina where she examine people."  


"Thanks."  


"Senor," the boy paused. "If she offers you a candy bar, they are very good."  


Jim smiled. "I'll be sure to remember that."  


The cantina wasn't that far and Esme came out from the back of the cantina, assisting a middle-aged man whose arm was in a sling, just as Jim and Jack arrived. She smiled a goodbye to her previous patient and came to help Jim get Jack into the room and onto an examination table.  


"So Senor Jack, what happened to you?"  


As Jack started to explain, Jim looked around in curiosity. Against one wall of the room was the table, against another was a locked drug cabinet. The room had a desk and chairs; it seemed like a proper doctor's surgery. And then Jim noticed the certificate hanging on the wall from the Mexican School of Medicine.  


Esme noticed him looking.  


"Does it surprise you that I am a qualified doctor of medicine, Senor?"  


"Maybe a little," Jim admitted.  


"Once I earned my degree, I returned from Mexico City and set up here, where I am needed." She paused. "Senor Jack, tell me, does this hurt if I press here?"  


Jack had taken a deep breath. "A little, Doc," he said, through clenched teeth.  


Esme shook her head. "Senor, if you do not tell me where you are in pain, then how can I treat you? You may have ruptured something, may have internal bleeding or worst! However, if you do not wish my aid, then show me you can walk to the door without doubling over." She stood back with her hands on her hips.  


Jim tried not to smile.  


Jack sighed. "It's just that, well, a man's supposed to suck it up, Doctor, not complain in front of a lady, especially not to a lady."  


"For Christ's stake, Jack! The lady's trying to help you!" Jim exclaimed.  


"Okay, okay... yes, ma'am, it's kind a sore there, but more here," he indicated where he was punched just below the rib cage. "I guess it just radiates from there."  


She nodded, and, helping Jack off with his shirt, she said, "Do you know who beat you? Do we need to get the police involved?"  


"I don't know for sure, ma'am." He looked at Jim. "Skip, I could smell those French cigarettes, but what you can smell, that's not proof, is it."  


"Well, whoever it was, they certainly gave you a good beating. Now tell me the truth, did you pass out at all?" Esma asked.  


"No ma'am. I think they heard Skip running and ran off in the opposite direction."  


"Okay, and now tell me where does it hurt the worst...."  


After thoroughly examining Jack, Esme washed her hands in a small bowl. "It appears you have gotten off with just severe bruising. I will bandage you up to help give you some support when you stand, but if you notice any blood in your urine, have bad headaches, see lights, or have sickness, you come straight back here, do you understand? Oh and you will need to rest to give your body a chance to heal, no diving for a day or two..." She crossed to her drug cabinet removing a bottle of tablets and handing them to Jack. "Take three a day at regular intervals, for two days, and then as you need it, but not more than three a day. Also, avoid alcohol while you take them."  


Jack turned the bottle over in his hand. "What are they, doc?"  


Esme smiled. "I could tell you they are rat's droppings dissolved in vinegar." She laughed at the horror on Jack's face, "but they are really just pain killers, the sort you would find anywhere in America. You understand my instructions?"  


"Yes, ma'am."  


She turned to Jim. "You make sure he obeys them, Senor Jim."  


"Oh he will!"  


Jack glared at Jim, but didn't say a word.  


Esme wrapped Jack's torso in bandages.  


"Now, both of you, go play somewhere else. I have real patients to see!" she said as she finished.  


"Oh," Jim stopped in his tracks. "I don't suppose you have some candy bars? A young man outside seemed very keen on them."  


Esme laughed out loud. "That would be young Miguel." She reached into a cupboard and lifted a jar out. "Here, help yourself."  


*** * ***

"Blair, I don't want you on board!"  


Jim had bumped into Blair at the Sweetheart's berth as he left Jack nursing his wounds back on board the boat. He briefly explained what had happened to his first mate.  


"Does he have any idea of who jumped him?"  


"He thinks it was probably the French nephews. Jack said he thought he could smell their cigarettes. But of course, that's not proof."  


"What are you going to do now? You're a man short."  


"Take someone else on, I guess."  


"How about me?"  


Jim shook his head. "I don't want you involved."  


"You need me! A. you're a man down, b. you need someone who understands your reactions to your senses, c. you need a diver, and finally, d. you need someone you can trust! You need me on that boat with you. Whoever attacked Jack may be out to get the rest of you and you need another pair of eyes. "  


"Blair, I don't want you on board!"  


"Give me one good reason why not!"  


"If they are out to sabotage the dive, and I don't understand why anyone would want to, you'd be putting yourself in danger too."  


"Then we can watch each other's backs."  


"Have you ever had any scuba diving experience?"  


"As a matter of fact, yes, I have. I don't have any paperwork to prove it as everything got washed away during a flood in Eastern Guatemala."  


Jim knew he was beaten. "Okay, but you don't take any risks, you got me?"  


"Understood, Skip!" Blair made a sharp salute.  


"Smart ass! Come on then, I'll formally introduce you to the others."  


*** * ***

"So we have three bunks in the back, and two here in front, along with the small area for heating food and hot drinks. These two bunks double as seats..." Jim said, as he showed Blair around the Sweetheart. "There's space for stowing bed rolls underneath."  


Again Blair had surprised him. The young man seemed to be on friendly terms with Jim's crew before they even stepped on board. He knew that Jose and Rafael were distant cousins, that Jose had a young baby with a good set of lungs, and Rafael thought he had a chance with Hedy Lamarr now that she and 'Mister Acapulco', Teddy Stauffer, had divorced, all because she had dropped her scarf and had thanked Rafael for picking it up, and that that Mac had been feeding one of the strays in the town - who had more or less adopted the engineer, Blair even knew that Jack wanted one day to hitchhike around the States. In fact, thanks to Blair, Jim learned more about his crew in half an hour than he had in all the months he'd spent with them. Blair seemed to bring out the best in folk, made them open up without them realizing that was what they were doing.  


When Dominique Olivier arrived, with Alfredo in tow, but no nephews, the crew was ready for the day's diving.  


"Where is Monsieur Jack?"  


"He's been taken ill. Mister Sandburg is filling in for him."  


"Oh, I see. I hope your first mate is well soon. Shall we suit up?"  


*** * ***

This dive was no more successful than any of the others. Jim was sure they were searching in the wrong place, but Alfredo seemed certain he'd seen the plane go down in this area, even though it was years ago. Everyone seemed frustrated as they made their way back into port. Jim decided it was time for a break.  


"Okay, people, tomorrow's Sunday. Let's take another day's break and try again on Monday." Madam Olivier looked as though she would object, but then she appeared to change her mind.  


"So what you planning to do tomorrow?" Blair asked him as they watched Olivier and Alfredo walk away, the old fisherman like a dog at her heel.  


"Nothing much; check the boat over, do some maintenance, why?"  


"There are some caverns that are only assessable by the sea, I thought you might like to see them? We could go snorkeling."  


"Sounds good to me."  


"Great."  


*** * ***

It was a spectacular day, the weather was sweet and gentle, the sea warm and inviting. Blair had taken a turn at steering the boat.  


"That group of buildings up there on top of the cliff?" he pointed. "That's John Wayne's place. There's a pool up there, with his initials picked out in tiles on the bottom, and views from the terraces looking out over the sea."  


Jim shaded his eyes and looked up to where the sheer yellow cliff was topped with a series of dazzling white buildings with steps carved out to a viewing platform half way down. He could see chairs and a table set up for the guests, but no figures moving around.  


He turned back to Blair. "You've been up there?"  


"No, but I know someone who has." Blair winked and touched the side of his nose. "All the greats have visited. They said that Johnny Weissmuller has taken a swing from a vine up there one time, just to prove he could!"  


Jim laughed. He looked back up and just for a moment imagined John Wayne sitting in the shade by his pool... wearing an open shirt, with long, bare tanned legs, tight swimming trunks.... Jim's eyes traveled over to his sexy, intelligent, even if sometimes irritating, companion, sitting now with his eyes hidden behind sunglasses, a gentle smile playing on those full lips... _No contest,_ Jim thought.  


"Boy, have I got it bad!" he muttered.  


"What?" Blair asked, lifting his glasses and turning to look at Jim.  


"Nothing, just thinking out loud. We nearly there yet?"  


Blair laughed. "You sound like me at the age of five!"  


Jim smiled. "And what were you like as a child, Chief?"  


"A bundle of curiosity wanting to know everything, and if an adult couldn't give me a satisfactory answer, I'd find a library that could!  


"What about you? Did you have a happy childhood?"  


"Oh, that was too long ago to remember! Mom was still at home when I was five, but we were hardly a happy family. Still I had some good times, I think. So where are these caverns?"  


"We should be coming up on them very soon, just around this headland in fact."  


*** * ***

They dropped anchor just off the coast by the side of a cliff and then took out the snorkeling gear and dived in.  


The water was clearer in this area and Blair led Jim into La Carvas where the sea was turned turquoise by the sun shining through into the darkened caverns. It was beautiful. Together they swam out, watching the marine life, only coming up to take air. Jim pointed out a seahorse hiding in the sea fans. They watched a turtle feeding....  


Finally they returned to the boat and headed for a small secluded beach of white sand where they built a fire to cook the fish they'd speared, with the rice and salad Blair had packed ready to eat. They relaxed in the sun, swapping stories of their adventures and laughing at each other's tales.  


Blair, breathless with laughing, fell back onto the sand. Jim lay beside him gazing up at the clear blue sky.  


Then Blair turned his head towards Jim, and pulled him into a kiss....  


Blair's lips tasted of salt and rice and joy and hot desire. Jim's back felt as though it was tightening and tingling as it dried in the hot sun. But the front of his body where it touched Blair's was scorching.  


Blair's hands seemed everywhere, pulling Jim as close as he could, sliding down under Jim's swimming trunks to knead and scratch at Jim's ass, moving around to touch Jim's cock, sending waves of pure pleasure through Jim's body. His own hands were pushing Blair's shorts down for some explorations of his own, but then Blair upped the stakes; he dragged Jim's cock out, and aligned it with his own. Jim wanted to scream with pleasure. It felt so good, too good to last very long, and with a shudder, he came, Blair following a quick second after.  


"I love you," Jim said, and it hit him like a ton of bricks.  


But Blair's face had closed up.  


"Boy, I must be good!" he said, with a twinge of mockery in his voice. "You don't have to say that."  


Jim leaned up on one elbow. "But it's true... and you don't feel the same about me." He felt his heart sink.  


"Naomi says those three words pretty often to her male friends. I don't think she even thinks about the impact of them."  


"I think about it. They mean something to me, Blair. I wouldn't say them if they didn't mean anything," Jim protested.  


"Oh, I'm sure you mean them right now, I mean the sex was great!"  


Blair got to his feet turning his back to Jim and brushed off the sand before pulling his shorts back around his ass. "Better start back."  


"Blair, who was he?"  


For a long moment, Blair stood still, then he sighed and staring out to sea, began to speak, almost as though to himself.  


"His name was Antonio Ramírez. He was beautiful. As he dived off the cliff, it was as if time stopped and he hung in the air as though supported by the gods. Then suddenly his body jack-knifed and, like a bird diving for fish, he sliced into the water sending a column of spray up into the air. I sometimes wished I could sculpt or paint him at that moment. He taught me how to put on a show. 'Give a little flip, and cover your genitals to protect them' he'd tell me." Blair smiled, sadly. "'Don't look down, aim for the sky'. I said that gravity will always win, but he'd just wink and say, 'One day, amigo, it may not be watching'!"  


Then Blair shook his head as though to shake off the memory.  


"I met him soon after we arrived here after Naomi had been diagnosed with cancer. He was charming and attentive. I thought I'd found someone I could depend on.  


"Esme warned me. She said he was a bastard who slept around, a user. I wasn't ready to listen."  


Blair came to sit heavily beside Jim pulling his legs up and wrapping his arms around his knees. "I don't think I really loved him. Oh I cared a great deal for him, but love.... And I'm sure he cared for me too, as much as he was able.... Sometimes, in the dark, he'd turn over and ask me to fuck him, almost as if that was the only time he could ask for that. The rest of the time he was 'Mr. Macho'. Anyway, one day I caught him on the bed we shared, screwing another guy. I blew my top; told him we were finished.  


"A few days later he was at La Perla, talking to some tourists. One of the regulars, probably out to cause trouble, suggested that I was a better diver than Antonio. He replied that I was a mere amateur, that he'd taught me everything, and I could never outshine his diving skills, and, despite the fact he'd had a lot to drink, he decided to prove it."  


Blair paused.  


"I was there when they brought his body to the shore.  


"The procession to the church for his funeral was lined with his admirers, but it was a private service. The family asked me to stay away. I think they knew he preferred men to women but while he was alive they chose to ignore it. He once told me that one day he would have to marry some pretty young woman and give her his baby so that his parents would be happy, but he wanted to put it off as long as possible because he didn't want to make two people miserable.  


"After the funeral I went to his grave." Blair looked at Jim. "I felt nothing. You would think I'd have felt something but there was nothing."  


He shook his head. "I've never told anyone else all this. Even Naomi only knows some of it. Maybe I'm just not ready to hear those words."  


"When you are..."  


"You'll be the first to know," Blair smiled gently. "Come on, we really should get back. I want to check on mom, and then help the priest with his evensong setting up."  


"Okay. Blair? Thank you for telling me."  


Blair chuckled. "Sharing's good for the soul, they say. Maybe you will remember that when you have a problem with your senses and I have to worm it out of you!"  


"Yeah, yeah."  


*** * ***

Unable to just leave Blair on the dock, Jim went with him back to the cantina, on the pretext of picking up some food for Jack.  


Blair went straight up to his mom's room, where she was sitting obviously waiting for him.  


"Hi, Naomi, how are you feeling?"  


"Blair, sweetie, I want you to do something for me," she said without preamble.  


"Sure, Mom, what do you need?"  


"I need you to stay away from that Jim Ellison."  


"Excuse me?"  


She held up her hand to stop him speaking. "Just let me have my say and then you will see the situation for what it really is. That man is a two faced monster. He comes on all charming and sweet, but if you heard the things he said about you to that woman, he was so rude, and made you sound like... well I don't know what. So please, stay away from him for both our sakes."  


"Mom, I don't know what you think you heard...."  


"I do understand that you may find him attractive, but, sweetie, he's all show, he just wants to get you into his bed."  


Blair riled. "Well, you know what, Mom? If I do decide to go to bed with him, that's my choice. "  


"Well, make another choice."  


"Naomi, I'm a grown man, I can choose who I want to spend time with, without consulting my mom."  


"Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry, I don't mean to be a party-pooper, but he is bad news. You deserve so much better."  


"Jim... he's a decent man, a good man. You are so wrong about him."  


She shook her head. "If that's your opinion, then there's nothing more to be said." And she turned away from Blair.  


Blair stood for a few moments.  


"Mom, come on. Detach with love."  


But Naomi kept her back to him and Blair finally gave up and left the room.  


He found Jim waiting downstairs.  


"She doesn't like me much, does she."  


"You heard?"  


Jim nodded.  


"Of course you did. Sentinel hearing. Well she doesn't know you, and Naomi has always been a bad judge of character. She liked Antonio. He paid her compliments, brought her flowers and chocolates. When I tried to tell her that he was cheating on me, she suggested I should be more adventurous in the bedroom."  


"Really?" Jim couldn't control his own astonishment. He couldn't imagine discussing his sex life with his parents.  


"Yep, that's my mom for you. I'm still not sure she doesn't think his death was partly my fault. I'm not even sure that I don't believe that a little myself."  


"Blair..."  


"She was very offended on my behalf when I wasn't invited to the funeral. I practically had to beg her not to cause a scene." He sighed. "Guess I'll head out to the church. Maybe Naomi will get her good temper back later. I'll see you by the Sweetheart tomorrow?"  


Jim nodded. "Thanks for today. And for telling me."  


Blair smiled. "Thanks for listening. See you tomorrow."  


*** * ***

The following day Dominique Olivier appeared again without her nephews. "They needed to sort out some paperwork with Monsieur Lopez," she explained. "Perhaps tomorrow they will join us."  


They headed out for the area they stopped at the day before, and Mac nursed the sonar into action. At first nothing appeared, then the beeping noise changed and a form registered. It didn't look like part of a plane, but in case it was debris, they donned their suits and leapt into the water.  


Visibility was still like murky with sand and grit drifting around, but Jim thought he could see glittering something some distance away.  


Just as he turned to give the signal to Olivier to return to the boat, he saw her make a movement towards a small hole in a rock. Jim could see the malevolent eyes of an eel in the darkness of the hole, and he went to stop her reaching towards it, but he wasn't quick enough and the snake-like head of the eel shot out and bit her hand. She pushed away, but her blood began to ooze and blend with the water.  


Jim cursed under his breath. He had to get her back on the boat and quickly. Blood flowing like that could attract sharks. He grabbed her shoulder and signaled upwards with his thumb.  


She looked ashen within her mask, but she nodded and together they swam, emerging together on the surface. Dominique pulled off her mask with a gasp of air. Jim quickly pushed her towards the ladder on the side of the boat where she was helped back onboard.  


"Madam Olivier has been bitten by an eel," Jim said, shortly.  


Blair flashed Jim a look which seemed to say 'what the hell...' before he concentrated in helping Dominique off with her equipment.  


"I'm sorry," she was saying, "I thought I saw something shiny, like metal. I knew I shouldn't have reached for it even as I did so. I should have realized there was an eel in the hole." Her voice was quavering.  


"It wouldn't have happened if you were as experienced as you said you were," Blair whispered under his breath as he turned away. "I'll get the first aid kit," he said more loudly.  


"It's okay," Jim said to the young woman. "We'll soon get it sorted. It just needs cleaning up and a couple of stitches. You'll be right as rain."  


"But no more diving," Blair added as he returned.  


Dominique looked to Jim.  


"He's right. This," he indicated her hand, "will have to heal first. There's all manner of germs in the water. Better safe than sorry."  


She flinched as Blair poured some antiseptic on the wound. "Sorry, it's all I could find," he said.  


Jim kept his face blank. He knew that stuff stung like iodine and that there was something not so harsh in the kit. Blair was obviously annoyed with Dominique, either because she did something foolish, or, Jim hoped, because Blair was jealous of the attention Jim had given the woman. Either way, no one else on board corrected Blair. Maybe it wasn't just Jim who was suspicious of the Olivier family....  


*** * ***

Although Jim offered to take her to Esme, Dominique insisted she would feel more comfortable with the doctor on call via her hotel, so Jim drove her back to the city. Once there, the concierge was all attention and Dominique was soon on her way back to her suite with a doctor, but before she left she put her good hand on Jim's arm. "Please, Monsieur Ellison, I wish to thank you. Would you perhaps have dinner with me this evening?"  


"There's no need to thank me, Madam..."  


"Then would you just keep me company for a meal?"  


"If you insist, then of course."  


"Bien, then we shall see each other later."  


*** * ***

Blair wolf-whistled when he saw Jim about to step into Bob's taxi. "Wow! You clean up very nice, Jim! I hope she appreciates it!"  


Jim just smiled. The truth was that he'd rather he was having a nice romantic dinner for two with Blair. But if wishes were horses.... All the same, he couldn't help turning his head to look through the back window as the cab pulled away. Blair was still standing, just watching. He looked somewhat forlorn. Jim almost had the cab stop, but he really wanted to find out what Madam Olivier was up to.  


He arrived in plenty of time and sat on a stool in the bar, a shot of bourbon in front of him, not that he needed any Dutch courage. In fact he saw this as little more than a business dinner.  


She arrived a few minutes late, wearing a deep green, silk gown which flowed around her body, accentuating every move. The top plunged, the skirt split. There was just enough material in the middle to evade the indecency laws.  


Every man in the room turned to look and every woman 'tutted'. Jim was sure a number of husbands would be sleeping alone tonight.  


She walked in as though she owned the place. If Jim hadn't already lost his head and his heart to a certain curly haired male, she would have knocked him for six. As it was, he could still appreciate the effect she had on those in the bar.  


"Madam Olivier." He nodded his head to her in greeting. "You look enchanting."  


"Thank you, Monsieur Ellison. You also turn heads."  


Jim smiled and offered her his arm. "Shall we go through?"  


*** * ***

The meal was delicious, melon to start, then lobster, and finally a raspberry fool.  


Jim decided to have coffee. Madam Olivier ordered a daiquiri.  


"Why do you dive, Jim? What is in it for you? There are safer ways of earning money," Olivier said, as she delicately nibbled at the cherry garnish from her cocktail.  


"I sort of fell into it. And I enjoy the freedom it gives me." Jim stirred his coffee. "I guess most divers feel the same."  


"Yet you are not like most divers."  


"Madam..."  


"Oh please, after all we have shared, do you not think you can call me Dominique?"  


"Dominique... I enjoy diving, but I still need to earn my living. This way I can do what I like at the same time. It's as simple as that. What about you? Did you take up diving just to find your brother?"  


Dominique put down her drink. "Before the war, my family had money, a nice house; they enjoyed life. My brother, he was a lot older than me. My parents wanted him to have all they could give him. He wanted to be a pilot, so he was taught to fly.  


"And then the Germans invaded. They took everything from us. My brother was afraid that they would force him to fly for them, so he ran off to the French resistance. For many years we did not know if he was alive or dead, but then after the war ended, he found us.  


"Then so did these two Nazis. They threatened to destroy our family if my brother didn't fly them to safety. He left me a letter, telling me what he intended to do. For a long time, I did not know whether he had carried out his plan, and then I hired a private detective to find if there was anything, rumors, stories, anything to tell me where my brother might have disappeared to. When I read that he intended to crash his plane, and die with it, I decided to learn what skills I could to help me find him. And one of those skills was scuba diving."  


"Do you have other family left alive?"  


She sat back. "No, both my parents are dead. He was my last blood relative. Luckily my late husband left me with enough money to start my search. What about you, Jim? Is there a Madam Ellison somewhere waiting for you?"  


Jim shook his head with a smile. "No, there's only one lady in my life and she's moored on the water."  


"Ah, yes, your boat, the Sweetheart? She is not named for someone special?"  


Jim shook his head again. "I probably devote as much attention to her as I would another lady."  


"And as much money?"  


"Probably more!"  


Dominique laughed and leaned towards Jim. "Would you walk me to my room, Jim?" she asked, seductively.  


Jim smiled, "Of course." He stood and held her chair as she rose. Then having signed the tab, she led the way to the elevator.  


At the door of her room, she turned to Jim, and handed him the key. "Would you care to join me for a cognac?" She played with the necklace that dangled down her throat.  


Jim shook his head. "Forgive me, Dominique, but I need to keep a clear head for the dive tomorrow. Perhaps another time?"  


He reached down and turned the door key, opening it wide for her.  


"I am disappointed, Jim." She sighed, dramatically. "Very well. We will make, as you say, a rain check, yes?"  


"Indeed, Dominique. Thank you for the meal. Sleep well."  


"I will. Oh and Jim? Although I cannot dive for the moment, I still wish to be involved. I will see you on your boat tomorrow."  


"Of course."  


*** * ***

As the cab took him back to the town, Jim thought of taking a stroll along the beach to Blair's hut but decided against it. It was late, and he was tired. Dinner with Dominique felt like a game of poker, one where he wasn't sure what the stakes were, how high, or if he even wanted to play.  


*** * ***

The next day Blair arrived to dive with Jim. He brought along his own fins and mask.  


Jim couldn't tell if Blair was excited or nervous as he was helped with his tanks. He was talking a blue streak.  


"Do you know, Mark Antony is reputed to have employed divers to attach fish to his fishing lines so his friends would be impressed with his skill? In fact the pearl divers from the Bahamas were considered by the Spanish to be the finest divers in the New World! Oh and the legendry King Gilgamesh searched for a magical plant in the sea by using weights to hold him down and by holding his breath...."  


Jim watched his friend. _Ah well, at least I'm there to keep an eye on him._  


Blair was, in fact, a natural. He swam through the water like a dolphin and Jim watched him with pleasure, almost forgetting the purpose of the dive.  


With Blair there beside him, Jim felt much more in control of his senses. Realizing that he didn't have to worry about his friend's diving abilities, he was able to focus. He saw something reflecting the light on the sea bed, almost hidden by weeds and rocks. He gently wafted his hand to remove some of the sand, and discovered a piece of glass made smooth by the water. He showed it to Blair and together they scanned the mica, finding other fragments, some with bits of metal still attached.  


They surfaced and climbed on board.  


Dominique was there as soon as they pulled off their fins. "Did you find anything?" she demanded.  


"Fragments of glass," Jim said, showing her. "The plane must have hit the water hard for it to shatter like this."  


"But it must be close, yes?"  


"Madam, it could be in a thousand pieces down there, scattered all over. There may not be enough pieces left for us to be certain it is your brother's plane."  


"You are not to give up, Monsieur. I will not allow it. You must go down again!"  


Blair noticed Jim had gone still and was looking off into the distance. He surreptitiously placed his hand on Jim's back.  


"No, Madam, we are not giving up, yet," he said, to cover Jim's lapse. "But the sun's angle is making visibility even worse, it would be best if we..."  


"If we go back to shore!" Jim finished. "There's a storm brewing and heading our way. Mac, did you check the weather forecast?"  


Mac frowned. "Yes, Skip. There is a storm warning, but it's not due to hit for several hours."  


"Well it's decided to pick up speed. Turn the boat around. We head for a safe harbor now!"  


"Wait!" Madam Olivier grabbed Jim's arm. "I see no sign of a storm. If this is just an excuse, a...delay in your diving...."  


"Dominique, believe me, the wind is picking up, the sea is becoming choppy. The storm is heading this way and I am not putting my crew's lives, or myself and the Sweetheart at risk. I can read the signs. We head back, now!"  


Dominique 'huffed' and left the men to stow their gear away and start to tie things down as the small boat circled around and headed back to its mooring.  


*** * ***

By the time they reached the harbor, the rain was pelting down and even though they had donned yellow sou'westers, they were still soaked to the skin. Jim allowed everyone to disembark and then said, "I'm going to take her out a bit and drop anchor. It should hold but I'm not risking her being thrown up and beached."  


"You're planning on staying on board, Skip?" Mac asked.  


Jim nodded. "I'd feel better knowing how she fares, Mac."  


"I'll stay with you," Blair said. "You may need another pair of hands and I'm good on water I never get seasick."  


Jim nodded again. "I'll see you all tomorrow, when the storm abates."  


"Keep safe, both of you."  


"Thanks, you too."  


Once the crew was off the boat, Jim took her out and steered her into a deeper, but more sheltered, area of water, and then dropped anchor. The sky had turned afternoon into night, and the rain was pouring straight down.  


The two men descended into the belly of the boat to find some dry towels and light the lanterns.  


Blair, rubbing his hair dry, looked up at Jim.  


"So why 'Chief'?"  


"Don't know, it just seemed to fit you. Don't you like it?"  


Blair shrugged. "I don't mind. It just made me think of the movies, a Western, or a Tarzan film, that's all. At least you don't call me Tonto," he smiled.  


"Nah, Tonto didn't have curly hair," Jim said, ruffling Blair's drying curls.  


Blair batted his hand away. "Stay away from the hair, man!" He continued rubbing his hair.  


"What about your family," Blair asked.  


"No, I never called any of them Chief, or Tonto."  


"Idiot! I mean, tell me more about them."  


"What, you want to find out if there are any more sentinels in the Ellison clan?" Jim hung up his own towel and started to prepare a simple meal of soup and bread for them both.  


"Are there?"  


"Not as far as I'm aware."  


They both sat down to eat.  


"Well, then tell me more about your childhood. Did you have any close friends?" Blair asked between mouthfuls.  


"What made Jim Ellison into Jim Ellison, Chief?"  


"As long as there's no violence involved, and we have the time, talk!"  


Jim chuckled. "I didn't have any what you would call 'close friends' of my own age. Dad sort of frowned on my choice of friends. I had a mentor who helped me through a lot of stuff, but with my parents fighting back at home, I took up sport as a way of being out of the house. And when the split finally came, dad was away on business a lot - which was better, but if I mentioned being able to hear something I couldn't have, or see something I couldn't have, to dad, he would jump on me, figuratively of course. He was frightened his friends would say Ellison's son was a freak. So I learnt not to say too much.  


"When I joined up, I felt that for the first time, my abilities could be put to good use. I may be different, but it was a good difference. You understand?"  


Blair nodded.  


"The adrenaline on missions carried me through, gave me something else to think about when the headaches and the weirdness got too much. But after that last mission when I returned to duty, I started to have these... what do you call them? Zone outs? The doctors called them blackouts. Thankfully it was near the end of the war and I was invalided out. Since then, I've felt like I was going crazy - until you came along and told me my special senses are natural to me... even if I still feel they control me not me controlling them at times."  


"That will come, Jim, in time, with practice."  


Jim sat forward. "What about Blair Sandburg? Turnabout's a fair deal."  


"Changing the subject? Nothing much to tell really. Mom and I traveled around a lot when I was a kid. I got to see a lot of different cultures and life styles, meet a lot of interesting people, but as I got older I realized I needed some formal education if I wanted to really get into anthropology and that meant staying put. Naomi got me enrolled at a good university, and a foster family because I was under age to live on my own, and then took off again.  


"I didn't really mind as long as she kept in touch. So while working towards my final degree, I took a whole palaver of different jobs, wound up as a photographer and well you know the rest. I..."  


"Hold that thought!" Jim said, leaping to his feet and climbing up on deck.  


He realized he'd been aware of the sway of the boat getting stronger while they were talking, but once out in the open he could feel the wind forcing him to fight against it. He checked the radar in the cabin, just to confirm what he already knew; the storm was a big one and it was heading inland and they were in its path.  


Blair poked his head out of the hatch.  


"Here, Chief, grab this rope!"  


The next couple of hours they spent being tossed up and down on the waves, making sure everything was either under wraps or securely tied down, manually pumping water out when the onboard pumps struggled, and generally fighting against the storm until it finally passed over when they crawled, gratefully, into the bunks in the cabin, exhausted.  


"Thanks, Chief," Jim said, softly. "I couldn't have done this by myself." But all he heard was Blair's soft snoring.  


Jim smiled and turned over to sleep himself.  


*** * ***

Next morning dawned bright and fresh, and they returned to their mooring. Jack and the others were waiting to meet them.  


"How'd she fare, Skip?"  


"Better than I'd hoped," Jim called up as he threw up the mooring rope. "The pumps struggled and there's some slight damage I'd like to fix before we take her out again, but she's held up very well."  


Mac jumped down into the boat and began to check her over.  


A young man wearing the uniform of Dominique's hotel cycled up. "Senor Ellison? Madam Olivier asks if your boat survived and all is well?"  


"Tell her that we have to do some slight repairs and that we'll dive again once they're done."  


"Si, Senor." He turned his cycle around and puffed his way back off the quay.  


"Is it me," asked Jack, "or is she in a real hurry to find her brother's body?"  


Jim couldn't help but wonder himself.  


"Was there much damage here?" Blair asked.  


"The storm died down a lot as it hit land, but there's a number of houses with leaking roofs, oh and the town's ex-mayor had a heart attack and died."  


"Fidel?" Blair said. "He's been looking after his bedridden wife for ages. Ironic that he should go first. It'll be a big funeral, so many people like the couple and they have a very large family, lots of granddaughters and nieces who may need comforting. I'll have to go and pay my respects," Blair winked, "but first," he said, rubbing his hands together, "who's up for breakfast? I'm starving!"  


*** * ***

After ordering his breakfast, Blair went up to check on his mom.  


Jim saw him as he slowly walked down the stairs; his bounce had died a little.  


"How is she, Blair?"  


"'Bout the same as usual. She said the atmosphere during the storm messed her up and she's going to stay in bed for a while. She's obviously in pain again, and Esme has already given her something. It's so frustrating that I can't help."  


Jim put his hand on his friend's shoulder, trying to convey with touch what he couldn't with words.  


Blair smiled weakly up at him.  


"Something smells good," he said, breaking the spell.  


"It sure does, Junior. It sure does."  


The phone rang while the crew and Blair tucked in, exchanging tales of storms they'd survived, and then Rosa came over.  


"Blair, I am sorry to intrude upon your meal, but that was Maria at the hotel. She has some requests from some of the guests for you to walk their dogs?"  


"You go, Chief," Jim said, "Mac and I will be up to our elbows in grease in the bowels of the boat for a while anyway."  


Blair grinned as though he wanted to make some comment, but then thought better of it. "Okay. Thanks Rosa. I'll see you guys later. You and Mac have fun with the grease in Sweetheart's nether regions!"  


"Out!" Jim said, throwing a bread roll after his fast retreating friend, to laughter from the crew.  


*** * ***

At midday Jim, Juan, and Mac took a break, Raphael was sent to the cantina for some refreshment. Jack had gone visiting Esme for a 'check up' but Jim had noticed Jack was being 'checked up' a lot recently. Not that he begrudged his old friend some romance....  


The three men sat on the dock and enjoyed their cool beers. Sweetheart was structurally sound. She could do with a new coat of paint, and new sonar and radar, for that matter, but Jim hoped the money from this commission would pay towards at least one of those.  


He was surprised to see Blair jogging towards them.  


"Sandburg, I thought you'd be stuck with the dogs all day," he said, smiling.  


"I would have, except one of them was digging around in the sand on the beach and unearthed this." Blair held out a piece of corroded metal in his hand. "It's part of the missing plane, isn't it."  


Jim took the fragment and lightly scratched the surface with his fingernail. "It certainly looks like it. Can you show me where the dog found it?"  


"Yep, in fact I bet if you get out your maps, we will be able to plot its likely journey to the beach."  


Jim smiled at Blair's enthusiasm. "No time like the present, if you are free right now?"  


The five men poured over the maps on the deck of the Sweetheart, charting the flow of the currents in the area, drawing a line from where Alfredo believed the plane went down to the beach where Blair had walked the dogs.  


"She has to be somewhere along here," Jim pointed. "We've searched up to this point, so she must have come to rest around here. It's still a fairly large area, but with the sonar, we could trace that line. Let's get the boat up and running and we can do a survey. The sonar could do with a test. Then tomorrow, when Madam Olivier comes to dive, we may have something more concrete to show her."  


The crew went to their places ready to leave the harbor. Juan backed out. He'd been yawning all day, due, he said, to his bambino having a very good set of lungs!  


He untied the rope from the dock and threw it across to Blair on the boat, then he went and sat on the dock with his feet stretched out, hat pulled over his face, and went straight to sleep.  


Jim chuckled.  


"You still think Olivier is telling you the truth?" Blair asked Jim, quietly, coming up to him.  


Jim turned away from the sight of his sleeping crewman. "I think there's an element of truth in her story. She's still hiding something though."  


"How can you tell? Is it just instinct?"  


Jim was about to answer, but he hesitated. "It sounds crazy, but I think I heard her heart speed up sometimes."  


"Speed up?"  


"Yeah. Like thump - thump, thump - thump... you know?"  


Blair was grinning. "Thump - thump, thump - thump?"  


"Yeah, laugh it up." Jim said, frustrated.  


"Hey, no, it's good. The FBI would pay a fortune for a human lie detector!" He hit Jim on the arm. "I'd better watch what I say to you!"  


"Damn right, Sandburg," Jim growled.  


Blair saw the expression on Jim's face. "Hey, Jim, man. It's cool. I won't lie to you... unless it's for your own good!" He laughed.  


Jim just glared. "Yeah, well I just want the job finished now. Get all three of them off my boat for good."  


*** * ***

Jim looked at his watch. "This is useless. We'll have to head back. I don't want Dominique to come looking for us."  


Blair had a pair of binoculars on and was looking out to sea. "I've been thinking."  


"Really, Chief. You, thinking?"  


"Shhh. The storm brought that bit of metal to the beach, yes?"  


"Yes."  


"And therefore the storm must have turned up the sea bed and exposed any remains. It would also have exposed any microorganisms which had been chewing on anything... organic."  


"I'm with you so far."  


Blair was still looking through the binoculars. "Think food chain. The fish eat the microbes, and birds eat the fishes...." He pointed to where a small flock of sea gulls were diving into the water.  


"I could be wrong; it may be something completely different."  


Jim looked to where Blair was pointing and slowly grinned. "But it's worth investigating. I knew I kept you around for something!" he said, slapping Blair on the back. "Mac, change course, Blair's seen something...."  


*** * ***

The sea, over the years, had tossed and broken the fuselage of the plane, and turned it over onto its back so that it sat, ensnared in the mud and sand, most of it in pieces just dotted about the seabed. Jim shone his flashlight through the broken cockpit window.  


What was left of the pilot was hanging from its seatbelt, a skeleton in flight clothes floating upside down, but still trapped inside the plane.  


Jim swam along the twisted fuselage till he reached the jagged edge where the plane had broken its back. The wings had been snapped off as though a giant child had torn them off in a fit of pique and tossed the plane away. Most of the back end was encased in mud, but the front of the plane was clear and Jim swam down and was about to swim in, when he backed swiftly away as a small shark darted out and swam off, disinterested in the rubber suited diver.  


Jim carefully entered the belly of the plane. Everything not bolted down was floating inside. Wires were waving in the water like snakes. Rust particles floated around like dust as he swam past.  


Two more skeletons lay in a jumble on what would have been the roof of the plane. The fish had done a good job of cleaning the flesh from the bones. Both skeletons were wearing suits and overcoats. Perhaps they had tried to escape their demise and undone their seat belts to try and stop the pilot only to end up as mixed up remains in the interior of the plane. Attached to one skeletal wrist was half of a set of handcuffs, and, as Jim examined it, the hand fell apart exposing the other half of the cuffs which was attached to the handle of a 'Gladstone' bag. Puzzled, Jim tried to pull the bag out, and as he tugged, the material fell apart, and hundreds of small gold and silver ingots tumbled out, all with the stamp of the Nazi party impressed upon them.  


_So this is what Dominique is after!_ Jim thought as he balanced one in his hand. _Wonder if she's even interested in her brother's remains. For that matter, I wonder if it even is her brother._  


He let the ingot fall and then swam up to the cockpit. Floating free was a St. Christopher on the end of a chain which was around the pilot's neck. Jim tried to remove it to show Dominique to see if she could identify it. He was curious over what she would say. But as he lifted the chain, the head came loose and slowly tumbled away, the skeleton body simply falling apart after it. Jim watched with a sense of sadness.  


He turned and swam back out, preparing to head up to the surface.  


As he reached his guide rope, he looked up and saw a smaller hull next to the Sweetheart. He decided to let go of the rope and rose through the water until he was under his own boat. He rested his head against the hull and closed his eyes.  


It took a minute or two, but then he was able to make out muffled voices coming from above. He couldn't hear words, but there was a female - Dominique, obviously, and her tone was angry.  


Jim struggled out of his tanks, leaving them to sink, and then swam to the other side of the smaller boat, surfacing in time to hear flesh slap hard against flesh.  


"If you do not tell me what Ellison has found, I shall shoot you in the leg and have you dangled over the boat. How long do you think it would be before the sharks gather? Do you think Ellison will be able to fight the sharks? Who do you think is likely to win?"  


"Jim isn't a fool. As soon as he realizes what you're up to he'll head for the authorities."  


"If you are so sure, maybe we will put it to the test!"  


"Oh, leave the man alone!" shouted out Mac.  


"This isn't about your brother, is it?" Blair drew her attention back. "What are you really looking for, Madam? What really drew you to this part of the world?"  


"You want I should tell you, Mister Sandburg? My brother's whereabouts did bring me here: those Germans were carrying gold to finance their new lives, gold taken from pretty Jewish boys like you! If he had thought better, my stupid brother could have taken me along too. We could have killed the Nazis, chucked them out and gone on to live the high life, but oh no, my brother had to, to, the expression is, I believe, to take the high ground? So here I am, with a group of idiots, like you!" She pointed the gun in Blair's face, forcing him to edge back with his hands raised high above his head.  


"Madam Olivier! Mister Sandburg just found a piece of twisted metal. The skipper thought he could trace its journey and the echo sound picked up something. Let me show you."  


"Watch him!" she ordered the nephews as she followed the engineer into the wheelhouse.  


Marco forced Blair to sit on the deck while his brother went to lean against the lifting equipment, cleaning his nails with a new flick knife.  


There was a noise like a dog bark.  


Marco looked up. "Ca c'était quoi?" he asked his brother.  


Blair knew enough French to answer. "That's just a seal. Sometimes they sound like a dog bark..." his voice trailed away, and suddenly he began to squirm and cry out.  


"Argh! Ow! Aw hell!"  


"What is wrong with you, stupid American?"  


"It's a Charlie Horse! A cramp in my leg! Ow!" Blair had gotten to his feet and was hobbling around. "Ah hell, son of a bitch!"  


"Que fait-il?" ("What's he doing?")  


"Damned si je sais!" ("Damned if I know!")  


"Bien le faire arrêter!" ("Well, make him stop!")  


Blair was limping, moving jerkily around. He reached into the pocket of his jeans pulling out a small ball he used to play with the dogs, and a ball of string.  


He began to juggle, still dancing around. "Helps me focus on something else," he said, breathlessly.  


Then he dropped the string. "Woops!"  


A heavy flashlight rolled across the deck.  


Blair reached to pick up the string...  


...grabbed the flashlight instead and swung it in an arch to hit the Frenchman right on the chin, just as Jim hit the other brother over the head with an empty air tank from behind.  


"That was quite a performance, Chief. Are you all right?"  


Blair had rushed over to Jose. "Oh, man, am I glad to see you! I'm fine, but Jose got shot. I pushed him out of the way, but he's bleeding. Rafael got slugged real good when they first got on board. Good thing Jack is convalescing or we'd have more injuries."  


"You pushed Jose out of the way? You could have been shot yourself!" Jim bent to look at his crewman.  


Blair smiled a crooked grin. "I didn't really think of that. What do you think?"  


"I had some training as a medic. I think it's just a flesh wound. He's lost a bit of blood though. I'd feel better once we get him to shore. What's he doing here anyway?"  


"They brought him with them. I figure from his bruises, they forced him to tell them where abouts we are."  


Jim moved over to look at Rafael who moaned as Jim lifted his head. "It doesn't look too bad. How long's he been out?"  


Blair frowned. "He tried to help Jose and got punched for his trouble. I went to go to him, and that's when it really kicked off. I..."  


Mac appeared holding his head.  


"Mac, what the hell?"  


"Damn lass pistol whipped me!"  


The sound of an engine interrupted whatever else Mac may have said.  


"Damn! I forgot about Dominique! How did we she get away?" Blair said.  


Jim had rushed to the side of the boat. He held up the cut mooring rope to Dominique's dinghy.  


"She must have climbed over when we were concentrating on the lads. Here help me get this into the water, Chief." He had turned his attention to the Sweetheart's own dinghy.  


"Yeah, Jim. I'll help you chase after the homicidal manic!" Blair muttered under his breath as Jim leapt in the dinghy as soon as it hit the water, pulled the cord to start the outboard engine and took off after Dominique.  


Blair watched. Then he turned around. "Okay," he said, clapping his hands together. "Rafael? You back with us?"  


Rafael still looked woozy, but he pulled himself up a bit. "Si, I think so."  


"Good. Mac, can you turn the Sweetheart around and take her back?"  


Mac grinned. "Aye, Captain."  


Blair chuckled. "Right, Rafael, hold this," he said, handing Rafael the small harpoon gun, "and point it at Marco while I tie him and Philippe up. If they so much as twitch, shoot them, but try to avoid hitting me if you do."  


"Si, Blair." Rafael wedged the gun under one arm and pointed it straight at Marco.  


Blair turned to the Frenchmen. "He's probably still dazed after that punch you gave him so best you don't make any sudden movements. Okay, let's get this ship on the road, or rather back to the town."  


_So I can go chasing after my own infuriating, annoying, frustrating, hero of a sentinel!_ he thought.  


*** * ***

Dominique had a head start but it was unlikely she'd head into the jungle and the nearest place was the town. She probably had her hired car parked there.  


Once ashore, a beautiful young woman with her skills and intelligence, she could disappear into Mexico's heartland and lie low for a while. Jim couldn't allow that to happen. He tried to get more speed from the motor.  


*** * ***

Dominique stumbled onto the shore, abandoning her dinghy and ran to her car, but as she turned the key, her car was surrounded by people. For a moment, she panicked. Then she realized that they were slowly moving past her, too slowly for her to drive her car away. She got out of the vehicle and tried to hide among the crowd. Everyone seemed to be dressed in somber clothes, and heading towards the church. The crowd carried her along with them. One woman even gave her a black scarf to cover her head. Clasping her hands together in the fashion of a prayer, she tried to conceal herself.  


By the time Jim arrived at Dominique's car, she had been swallowed up by the funeral procession. He climbed up on the roof of her car and scanned the crowd. Almost as if she knew he was looking for her, Dominique turned her head and their eyes met.  


Jim jumped down and tried to move through the procession. He was head and shoulders taller than most of the mourners and saw his prey duck into the side entrance of the church. Jim knew the church, that side entrance led up to the roof and the bell tower, not to the main body of the building, which had another door at the back. She was trapped. He started after her.  


At the top of the building, he found her, staring over the edge. Jim moved forward, slowly.  


Either Dominique was a poor shot or she meant to miss and the shot was meant to slow Jim down rather than stop him permanently. The bullet just grazed Jim's leg. All the same with his senses on high alert, the searing pain blasted through his nerve systems, leaving him gasping and clutching at his leg. It took him a minute to even try and reach for his dials to attempt to dial down the pain.  


Dominique lowered the gun.  


Gritting his teeth, Jim said, "Come away from the edge, Dominique, we can talk about this. You've run out of options."  


"Talk, James? Oh I am so tired of men wanting to talk to me. They always want something else. 'Don't worry your pretty little head, Dominique, Wear this, Dominique, do this, Dominique, take this, Dominique, lie down, Dominique, kneel down...'"  


Jim fought against the pain in his leg. "You can start again. You're a survivor. The police have little on you. They probably won't prosecute you. As I see it, you've broken no Mexican law."  


"Perhaps not, but they will take all that we found. Do you know how many times I have tried to start again? This was my last chance to be free, to build a new life. I was going to be rid of all the men in my life. With this money I could buy my freedom at last! Now that will never happen. The two nephews, they will try to rule me to gain their uncle's money - what there is left of it.  


"No, James. I have had enough. Perhaps you are a good man, but I will not allow any man, any **one** , to decide my fate for me anymore. I wish you well."  


With that she spread her arms out straight and fell back without another sound.  


Jim pulled himself forward, dragging his leg as he did, and leaned over the ledge.  


A crowd had gathered below around Dominique's twisted body. A pool of scarlet was slowly hemorrhaging from her head. Jim noticed that her eyes were wide open and staring at the sky.  


"Come away, Jim." Blair was somehow beside him, gently tugging at his sleeve. "You can't help her now. No one can. Let's get you checked out."  


*** * ***

Jim was taken to the hospital. Blair ignored the medics and clambered into the ambulance, refusing to move from Jim's side until the doctor had patched Jim up and discharged him. Outside a police car took them back to the fishing town and the local station.  


The two men sat in the small office of the chief of police. It was a crowded room. There were scuff marks on the surface of his desk, as though he was prone to sitting with his feet up on it. He had an over flowing paper tray, an equally over following ashtray with a slim, still smoking cheroot perched on the edge, a picture of his wife and children, and a closed manila folder on his desk. A large metal filing cabinet stood under a picture of the president, overseeing the workings of his police force.  


The captain himself was slim, with dark, intelligent eyes, a mass of overflowing dark hair, a neat, well-trimmed beard and wore a smartly pressed uniform.  


"It is good, that Senor Blair pushed Juan out of the way, or there would be a bambina with no papa today."  


"And nearly getting himself killed in the process," Jim said.  


"Indeed. You are a brave man, Senor Blair."  


Blair ducked his head in mild embarrassment.  


"Yes, he is," Jim agreed  


Blair's head shot up and Jim smiled at the happy surprise on Blair's face.  


The police chief cleared his throat. "And how is Juan?" he asked.  


"He'll recover. I think he's enjoying the fuss made over him."  


The men laughed.  


Then the captain turned to the folder. "I have heard from the French police. Most of what you told me is correct. They sent me her dossier." He opened the folder and turned it around for Jim and Blair to see.  


"Her parents were collaborators with the Germans, though it is possible the mother was forced into prostitution by her husband. Their son left the family to join the Resistance. He was a pilot and had no wish to serve the Nazis.  


"They were forced to flee their house when the war ended. A man grabbed her mother and was going to shave her head for sleeping with the Germans. Her father killed this man. They had to go on the run.  


"The son found them, but just as France was liberated by the allies, a member of the Nazi party discovered his identity and blackmailed him to fly him and his colleague out of France. We know what happened then.  


"While in hiding, the father died after a fall down some stairs. The mother said it was an accident, but the daughter declared that her mama was behind him and pushed him down. On that evidence, the mother was guillotined. Later one of their neighbors came forward and said that she had seen the father come out of his ten year old daughter's bedroom, doing up his flies.  


"It was of course too late to investigate anything by then.  


"The daughter married a much older man... and her husband died the same way as her father. The nephews backed up her story that the man, being too mean to pay for better lighting, even though he had poor sight, and was unsteady on his feet, just slipped and fell."  


He shrugged. "Looking at her, could you have said she was a cold blooded murderer, Senior?"  


"What will happen to the booty Jim found?" Blair asked.  


The captain sighed. "I expect there will be many interested in that, senor. You wish to put in a finder's fee claim?"  


Blair looked at Jim and gave the captain a sharp nod.  


"It may take a long while to go through all the channels and there will be many who wish to stake a claim; storage fees, lawyer fees, etc. You understand? It may take months, perhaps years to sort it all out. I would not depend on seeing any money for a while."  


"Or perhaps ever," Jim said, flatly.  


"It is possible, senor."  


*** * ***

"What will you do now?" Blair asked.  


Jim rubbed his face. "I don't know. I was relying on the remaining balance to help set up a scuba diving operation, based here. The money she paid up front went for Mac, Jack, and the two lads as their wages. I guess I'll ask Mac and Jack to stay here with the Sweetheart while I head back to the US and hook up with some old navy buddies, try and twist their arms to invest in my idea. It'll take longer to start putting money back into the business, but it would get it off the ground, or rather into the sea!"  


"So you are planning on staying in Acapulco?"  


"Well yeah, I have my guide here, don't I?" _And so much more if you would just admit you care for me._  


Blair smiled. "That you do."  


"I have to make some phone calls in the morning and then book a trip back."  


"And I should check on Naomi. I'll catch you in the morning?"  


Jim nodded. "I'll see you at the cantina."  


*** * ***

Jim waited impatiently on the veranda of the cantina for Blair. His bag was standing beside him, and he'd booked his ticket back to the States, but if Blair didn't appear soon, Jim would have to leave without telling him why, and he really didn't want to do that to the man he'd fallen head over heels for. He wasn't sure what Blair would think, and Jim didn't want to risk hurting him. One phone call to the US, had made the journey back all the more essential.  


Jim had visited one of the hotels with private phone booths and a seat, plus a handful of change and a small list of numbers, one of first was the number for his lawyer who had access to Jim's finances. It was this phone call that had Jim moving his plans forward.  


"International operator? I'd like to make a call to Cascade, Washington State, United States of America."  


"Yes, sir. What number, please?"  


Jim gave her the number and waited while clicks and buzzes went on down the telephone line. Then he heard a female operator say, "Hello, Ward, Brinley, Twist, Jones, and Ryder, What number would you like?"  


"Ward please."  


"Please hold, caller."  


Jim tapped his foot, waiting. He put more money in to the slot.  


"Ward, Attorneys at Law, Ronda speaking. How may I help you?"  


"Hi Ronda, how are you? Jim Ellison here." Jim couldn't help but the smile at hearing a familiar voice.  


"Why, Mister Ellison, you old sea dog! How are you? Where are you?"  


"I'm good, Ronda. I'm in Mexico, Acapulco as a matter of fact."  


"Oh, mixing with the movie stars now!"  


"Not exactly," Jim said, with a rue grin. "Any chance of speaking to your boss?"  


"As a matter of fact, he's been trying to reach you! But he's got someone with him right now. Can you hold?"  


"I'm calling from a pay phone, Ronda, so I'd rather not."  


"Costing you a fortune? Okay, give me the number where you're at and I'll ring you back."  


"Acapulco, Mexico...." Jim recited the number. And then waited.  


A few minutes later, his phone rang. "Mister Ellison, Mister Ward is busy but I'm putting you onto Mister Jones."  


There was a 'click' and then another voice came on.  


"Mister Ellison, it's a pleasure to talk to you, sir. We've been trying to contact you for a couple of weeks now; you are a hard man to track down, sir!"  


"Why are you looking for me?" Jim paused. "Is my family all right?"  


"Your family?" Jones sounded genuinely puzzled. "As far as I'm aware they are fit and healthy. Why would you... Oh, oh I see! No, it's nothing to do with your father and brother. No, no, no. This is a private matter concerning yourself. Is it possible for you to come into the office in the next few days?"  


"Mister Jones, I am in Mexico, which as I'm sure you are aware, is a different country and a considerable distance from Cascade!"  


"Mexico? My, how you do get about, Mister Ellison! Well, this is very important. How soon do you think you'll be able to return?"  


"I planned to drive up in about a week, perhaps two."  


"Two weeks, oh my. Is there any chance of you coming earlier? I might add, it will be to your advantage."  


"Could you at least tell me what this about?"  


"I'm afraid I can't discuss it over the phone. I can tell you there are some papers for you to sign."  


"And you can't send them by carrier?"  


"Dear me, no!"  


Jim sighed. "Very well. I'll call you when I arrive in Cascade."  


"Excellent! I shall look forward to seeing you with great pleasure, Mister Ellison. Goodbye."  


Jim had then gone to book his bus to the border, only to discover there was one leaving that very evening. Now if only Blair would turn up.... The bar owner had told Jim that his friend had gone to help Rosa pick up some supplies for the cantina, but that he wouldn't be long and had asked Miguel to tell Jim that. Now all Jim could do was wait.  


As if thinking would make Blair appear, Bob's cab pulled up.  


Blair almost jumped out of the car when he spotted Jim. But his face fell briefly as he caught sight of Jim's bags.  


"You're leaving already?"  


Jim hated the way Blair's face quickly became closed up. "The first call I made was to the family lawyer. He told me that the firm's been trying to contact me over some papers I have to sign."  


"Did he say what papers?"  


"No, he wouldn't say over the line. But I'll only be gone three weeks at the very most."  


Blair nodded. "But you have to leave now."  


"Yes," Jim nodded. "I'm taking the bus to the border and then hiring a car to get me to Cascade. It'll be cheaper and more reliable than flying up there."  


"That's for sure, and it'll be better to hire a car on the other side of the border than have to go through two lots of paperwork getting one in Mexico, but it's still a hell of journey. What if I come with you?"  


Jim shook his head. "Your mom needs you here. You need to be here for her. I'll sort things out and then come straight back."  


"What if you have problems with your senses? Driving up to Washington State could be tiring and you know if you get tired and irritable, your senses could play up."  


Jim smiled gently. "I'll take regular breaks. You're a great teacher, Blair. If I have any problems, I'll do what you told me."  


Blair still looked worried. He pulled off his top shirt, and then yanked off his undershirt. "Take this. I know it sounds vaguely perverted, but with me not there to ground you, this should have my scent all over it, just, you know, sniff it."  


Jim grinned. "Very perverted," he agreed. All the same he tucked it away in his bag.  


"I'll take you to the bus stop myself," Blair said.  


As Blair pulled up at the pickup point, he stopped Jim getting out with his hand on Jim's arm.  


"Jim... wait."  


Then, shyly, he slipped his hand around Jim's neck and pulled Jim's head towards him. The touch of his lips against Jim's sent Jim into a head spin.  


"That's to give you something to come back for," Blair said.  


Jim traced Blair's lip with his thumb. "Oh you can bet I'll be back," he said, huskily.  


"Yeah?"  


"Yeah... my boat's moored here."  


Laughing, Blair hit Jim's shoulder with his fist. "Dork!" he said.  


Jim chuckled.  


"Seriously," he asked, "you want me to come back? Why'd you change your mind?"  


"I thought I was going to lose you when you chased after Madam Olivier. I realized that scared me half to death. I'm more than ready to hear those words, if you still want to say them."  


Jim nodded. "We'll talk when I return." He turned to the car door. "I guess the sooner I get going..."  


"The sooner you'll be back! Go, will yer!"  


"Okay, okay. Blair, I love you."  


"Love you too, now go, catch your bus!"  


*** * ***

Jim sat on the bus torn between happiness and misery. On the one hand, Blair admitted he loved Jim, on the other, Jim was leaving him to head back to the States! Talk about rotten timing! And there was so much they needed to say to one another, certainly a great deal Jim wanted to say, and ask, and for that matter do with and to Blair. But it would all have to wait until he got the money sorted... and why did the family lawyer need to see him so urgently? He wiped his hand over his face, and tried to get comfortable in the bus seat. He just hoped no one threw up on board. If someone puked in these close quarters, he doubted if even Blair's shirt would help him cope. There was a woman with three excited young kids at the back of the bus, and a man with a cage full of equally excited chickens near the front. It was going to be a long journey.  


*** * ***

Five days later, Jim arrived in Cascade, Washington State, early in the morning. He was exhausted. The bus ride and then the car journey had played havoc with his senses; the struggle to keep a hold on the dials and stay in control, had given him the mother of a head ache. He booked into a quiet motel, then just threw himself head first onto the bed. He woke up long enough to kick his shoes off, pull his top clothes off, and get into the bed, before falling asleep again.  


*** * ***

The bright sun coming through the window finally got Jim up and moving. He rang Blair from the pay-phone in the motel lobby, just to hear his voice.  


Rosa answered and quickly fetched Blair.  


"Jim? You okay? Is everything all right?"  


"Yes, Blair. Relax. I just called to let you know I've got here safely."  


"No problems, no sensory problems, no head aches? Is your leg okay?"  


"You taught me very well. The leg is a bit stiff, but I coped."  


Blair went quiet. Then he said, "Good, good."  


Jim had the feeling that his lover was distracted.  


"Are you okay, Chief?"  


"Yes, it's just Naomi, you know. I'm fine. Just, I miss you, and talking over the phone, you know, it's not the same."  


"Blair... do you want me to come straight back now?"  


"No, no, Jim. Finish what you went to Cascade for, then we can talk and do other stuff."  


"I like the sound of 'other stuff', Blair."  


"Me too, Jim. Me too!"  


"If you're sure...."  


"I'm sure. Will you listen to us! We're like a pair of school kids! You'll be telling me to hang up first, next!"  


Jim chuckled. "Okay, I'll call again in a couple of days."  


"Sooner if you need me?"  


"I'll always need you. But, if I have any problems, I'll get in touch."  


"Okay. I love you, Jim," Blair whispered.  


"Ditto."  


Jim put the receiver down.  


He'd already contacted Mike, an old diving buddy, who ran a diving operation off the coast of Florida. Mike had promised to send Jim a list of useful contacts, people who might be able to lay their hands on the equipment Jim needed, at a cheap rate, people who might be interested in funding an operation in Acapulco.  


Jim just prayed that he could get the backing he needed or else he'd have to find work in the city itself as something else, a life guard maybe. But that was plan B, if all else failed.  


It was late in the day, and Jim found he was hungry so he went for a hearty late lunch, and then went to the pay phone again to call his lawyer. Although before Mister Jones had seemed to think the appointment was urgent, he wasn't available until the following day, so Jim had time to kick his heels and chase after his navy buddies to see if they had any time to discuss his business idea.  


*** * ***

The offices of Ward, Brinley, Twist, Jones, and Ryder were in a modern office block, along with other small firms, but Jim's lawyer was on the fourth floor and Ward's clients were largely 'old money', so his offices were decorated with wood paneling and green leather chairs.  


Ward also had Jim's father and brother as clients but he kept them all private and separate so Jim had never bothered to look for another lawyer.  


Ronda smiled warmly as Jim entered the reception area. "My, Mister Ellison, you are a sight for sore eyes," she gave him a saucy wink.  


Ronda was the lynch pin of the company. She kept both clients and lawyers on their best behavior, and, although she didn't look it, she'd been with the firm for years.  


"How are the kids?" Jim asked.  


"The ones at home or the ones here?" Ronda said, looking at the junior staff in the office. "My own are not kids any more. Would you believe the eldest is starting at Uni this year!"  


"Rainier?"  


"Of course! That way he is local and can drop his washing off at my house, and still run up my housekeeping bills! How about you? No sign of you settling down yet?"  


Jim smiled. Ronda could get away with asking personal questions, she'd known him so long.  


"No," he paused. "There is someone special, but I don't want to jinx it by saying too much."  


"I hope it all works out for you. You deserve some happiness."  


Just then one of the inner doors opened and a tall, elderly, stout man stepped out. "Ronda, could you file these for me?" He held out a folder.  


"Of course, Mister Ward."  


Ward looked at Jim for a second. "Why if it isn't the young James Ellison! Good to see you, young man." He held out his hand.  


Jim felt around sixteen years old as he shook the man's hand.  


"Still gallivanting with that boat of yours?" Ward's hand shake was as big as the man himself and Jim was glad when he let go.  


"Yes, sir, still gallivanting."  


"Mister Ellison is here to sign some papers with Mister Jones," Ronda said, smiling.  


"Ah yes! Has Jones someone with him?"  


"No, sir."  


"Then I'll just pop in and see what's keeping him."  


Ward knocked on another door and then entered, closing it behind him.  


Jim leaned in. "What's this Jones like, Ronda?"  


"You've not met him yet?"  


Jim shook his head.  


"He looks like he sounds," Ronda whispered. "Pinched face, as though he's sucking lemons!"  


Jim chucked.  


Ronda blushed as the door opened and her boss came out.  


"Come in, James. My next appointment isn't due for another five minutes, so I'll sit in for a moment."  


Jim could see at once what Ronda meant. Mister Jones had the kind of face that seemed to say, 'I don't understand humor so please don't waste it on me.' In fact as Mister Ward took the spare chair, Jones' face seemed even sourer.  


"Ah, the intrepid explorer, Mister Ellison, I presume," he said, chuckling as though he'd made a joke.  


"I prefer Jim, if you don't mind, Mister Jones. Mister Ellison is my father."  


Mister Ward coughed to clear his throat.  


Mister Jones frowned. "Quite. Quite. So, Mister..." He caught himself. "Jim," the word was spoken as though it was a different language. "As I understand, all your correspondence comes through this office?" He started looking through the papers on his desk.  


"Yes," said Jim. "I don't get much personal mail, so it all comes through here. Ronda forwards it to me. I've not been in any one place long enough to have a permanent address, until now." He leaned forward. "Just what is this about Mister Jones?"  


"Put the man out of his misery, Jones," Ward instructed.  


"It seems that during the time when you were missing in action, and when you were convalescing thereafter, the navy didn't pay you. Now with the interest on that pay, they owe you a considerable amount of back pay."  


"Considerable? How much is considerable?"  


*** * ***

Fifteen minutes after he'd entered the office, Jim was shaking Jones' hands and was left standing staring at the closed inner office door.  


"Are you all right, Jim?" Ronda asked.  


Jim slowly smiled. "Better than all right. I'm issuing a formal invitation, Ronda. You come down to Acapulco, and I will personally teach you to scuba dive!" He pulled her out of her chair and kissed her on the cheek.  


"Well, I'll be sure to take you up on that!" Ronda said, touching her cheek and blushing again.  


"You make sure you do!" Jim said, as he breezed out of the door of her office and made his way out onto the street.  


Now he could set up his own diving school! He followed his nose to a nearby coffee bar and ordered a strong coffee and asked to borrow the waitress' pencil. He sat with his coffee and began to make a list on a paper napkin of what equipment he wanted and how much he was willing to pay for it.  


Finally Jim sat back and drank his coffee. Jones had said it would take around five days for the paperwork to go through and the money to go into Jim's bank account. Five days and he would start his new life with Blair.  


He couldn't wait any longer, he had to ring his lover and tell Blair his news. He just had to get to that phone and make that long distance phone call....  


It took a minute or so before anyone in the cantina answered the phone and then Rosa spoke.  


"Rosa? It's Jim Ellison."  


Before he could ask to speak to Blair, Rosa interrupted. "Ah Senor Jim. Please wait a momento."  


There was some rustling and low voices and then Esme came on the line. "Jim, hallo. It is good to hear from you. Blair, he is not here. His madra, she passed over. Blair is at the church with Father Tito."  


"Naomi's died? How's Blair doing? Is he okay? Can I do anything?"  


"He is... coping. As with all grief, he must find his own way through. Does he have a number to call you in America?"  


"I gave him my lawyer's number. I'll give it to you too. Do you have a pen?"  


Jim rattled the number off. "Please, tell Blair... tell him that I will be back as soon as I can."  


"I will, Jim, I will. I asked him if wished to contact you. He told me not to say anything, that what you are doing, it is important to you both. But, it is right you should know."  


"Thank you, Esme."  


Jim slowly put the receiver down. He needed to get back and soon, but that drive had left him feeling exhausted. He didn't think he could drive and then catch the bus back without another day's break. He headed for the telegraph office to send Blair a telegram.  


_"Sorry to hear about your loss. Will return soon."_  


There was a nagging little voice in Jim's head; what if Blair decides to pack up and leave? Now that his mom's gone, what's there to tie him to Acapulco? Grief affects people in odd ways.... Jim told the voice to shut up. Blair was one of the good guys - and he had a mental picture of Blair wearing a white Stetson, while riding on a white horse.... Blair said that he loved Jim, and he meant it. He knew Jim would return to Acapulco. He'd wait... wouldn't he? Jim added another line to the telegram.  


_"Wait for me. ILU. Jim."_  


Short, but it would have to do. Until that money was in the bank, he had to keep a tight rein on his expenses. He'd take one day to recover and then he would start back....  


*** * ***

The journey back seemed to take twice as long. He wished he'd taken his boat, but that would have involved a whole load of different logistics.  


A couple of times he could have sworn he saw a black jaguar running alongside the car, and he pulled over as soon as he could and took a rest. One night when he pulled into a motel he dreamt that the jag was grooming the wolf, both animals giving and receiving comfort from their intimacy.  


Finally arriving at the Mexican border, Jim handed back the car to the rental company. The young, smartly dressed Mexican assistant came outside to check the car over.  


"She is in good shape, Sir. And you've driven how many miles?"  


Jim had checked the speedometer himself and confirmed the numbers.  


"And you have returned so quickly. May I ask if your business was successful?"  


Jim nodded.  


The young man seemed puzzled. "Perhaps there is a reason for your prompt return, perhaps someone is waiting for you?"  


At Jim's raised eyebrow the man blushed. "I apologize, Sir. I'm just curious."  


"It's fine," Jim said. "As a matter of fact, there is someone."  


"Love, it makes all of us loco!"  


Jim laughed. "Yes, it does," he said, thinking of the jag and the wolf.  


"Well, have a good day, Sir." The young man smiled and Jim walked away.  


Once across the border, Jim asked about the next bus going his way. Unfortunately, he was told, it wasn't due until the following day. Jim wasn't by nature a patient man, but the navy had taught him that if you couldn't hurry things along, it was no good worrying over it. He rang Bob, the cab driver, and told him a very rough estimate of when the bus would arrive, and asked if he could pick Jim up from the drop off point. Then he found himself a small room in a boarding house, and made himself comfortable for the night.  


*** * ***

Bob, true to his word, was leaning against his cab, smoking, as Jim's bus stopped and Jim jumped off.  


"Have you been waiting long?" Jim asked, as Bob put his bag in the trunk.  


"Not long, Senor. My wife, she nags at me, so any time away from her is not long enough! Esme told me to take you to La Quebrada. Senor Maestro, he is diving there today."  


"Blair's diving from the top of the cliff?"  


"Si, Senor, in a couple of hours."  


*** * ***

Bob dropped Jim by the restaurant. Jim could see the crowds inside enjoying themselves. He could also see the curly brown hair of his lover on top of the cliff. He quickly made his way along the path to where Blair sat, cross-legged in front of the shine to Our Lady of Guadalupe.  


Blair had his eyes closed, but he smiled. "I had a dream last night that the jaguar was coming back to me." He opened his eyes.  


To Jim they seemed to be shining with a warm promise. Jim could hardly breathe.  


"The jaguar? I had a dream about a wolf and a black jaguar."  


"I believe they are our spirit guides, Jim," Blair smiled.  


"What, like guardian angels?"  


"Something like that."  


"And your spirit guide is?" Jim asked, even though he knew the answer.  


"The wolf," Blair said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.  


To hear the words spoken out loud floored Jim and he didn't know what to say.  


"That's a bit... outlandish, don't you think?" he said, finally.  


"There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of..." Blair quoted.  


"Yes, well, some dreams are better than others!"  


Blair's smile softened. "Just go with it, Jim. I decided to."  


He got to his feet and stretched, sending shivers of desire though Jim's body.  


Blair fixed Jim with a look as though he knew precisely what Jim was going through. And judging by the lengthening bulge in his trunks, maybe he was feeling it too.  


"Come on in, Jim, the water's fine," he said, making a hook with his finger.  


Jim chuckled. "You lead, Chief, I'll follow."  


Blair grinned broadly. "Can I have that in writing?"  


Jim laughed. "Don't push it." He paused. "I was sorry to hear about Naomi, Chief."  


Blair nodded. "Thanks. I got your telegram. Esme told you, didn't she?"  


"I rang her with a contact address, just in case. I was surprised you didn't try to reach me. I would have come back straight away, damn the expense, I would have flown back."  


Blair shook his head. "I know you would have, and that would have sent your senses into a tail spin. You couldn't have done anything anyway. And I didn't want you to rush back before you'd secured the backing you were after. Naomi, well, she..." his voice broke and he cleared his throat. "She was living on borrowed time. A day after you'd left for the States, she just went to sleep and didn't wake up. It was very peaceful in the end.  


"I still can't believe she's gone, you know? I keep thinking she's just gone on another trip, and then it hits me that I'll never see her again. It's funny to think that these past two years are the longest I've spent with her since I was a child." He looked up at Jim, with sadness in his eyes. "I feel like I got to know her more since her illness than I did before, the best and the worse of her."  


"It's only been a short while, Chief. You have to give yourself time to grieve for her."  


Blair nodded. "At least she's no longer in pain, and I feel glad about that.  


"As she was a foreign national, I was able to have her cremated. She would have been so annoyed at all the forms I had to sign, but Father Tito and the Police Captain helped and it was all arranged in forty-eight hours. I got a friend with a small plane to take me up as high over the sea as he could go, and we scattered her ashes. Now she can travel as far and as wide as the sea and the wind can take."  


"Sounds beautiful, like something your mom would have appreciated, Blair."  


Blair smiled gently. "I think so too. I just wish she'd gotten to know you better."  


"Me too. I'd have liked her to know that I would cut off my right arm rather than hurt you."  


"She was a stubborn woman to the last, Jim."  


"Stubborn like her son."  


"Me?" Blair grinned. "Takes one to know one, my friend. Right now, I have something I must do."  


"You're still going through with the dive?"  


"Yes, for me, to prove that Antonio has no hold over me...over us. Life is about taking risks. You took one when you told me that you love me, and you waited for me to jump off that metaphorical cliff with you. This real cliff isn't half as scary. I need to do this. Do you understand?"  


Jim sighed. "I guess I do."  


Blair beamed. "Thank you."  


He walked to the edge of the cliff and took his position. "See you at the bar."  


And then he sprung into the air.  


Jim couldn't watch, and he turned quickly away, held his breath and closed his eyes until he heard loud applause and cheering coming from La Perla. Then he leaned over the edge of the cliff.  


Blair was laughing and waving to the crowds as he bobbed up and down in the water. Jim found he was breathing again. He made his way down to the restaurant, mumbling to himself "never again, Sandburg, never again!"  


They met at the beach in front of the bar. Blair was grinning broadly, accepting all the congratulations and back pats from his admirers. Jim had to push his way through.  


Blair's smile softened as his eyes found Jim.  


They stood facing each other.  


"That was the last time," Blair said, quietly. "I just had to lay that one ghost."  


"Promise?"  


"Promise." He held Jim's eyes. "So what did your contacts say? Will they lend you the money?"  


"As a matter of fact, I didn't need to ask. Turns out, the government owed me some wages! It was put into an account which my lawyer invested, and I now have enough to start up the business!"  


"That's great, Jim! Erm, how do you feel about having a partner? Naomi left me, if not rich, certainly comfortable."  


"You'd be willing to do that?"  


"Yes. In fact, if you want to, we can head back to the States or somewhere where the water is clearer." He led Jim away from the well wishes.  


"That wouldn't be easy for us," Jim said.  


Blair chuckled. "You're a man with enhanced senses - something modern society hasn't encountered for who knows how long, and we are two men in love with one another in a world where in most so called civilized places that's illegal. Easy will never apply to us. But as long as we work it out together, we'll deal with things as they come along. Maybe we could get a place with two bedrooms and tell everyone it's cheaper than living alone and that we are best buds."  


"You think that would work? People aren't stupid."  


"People see what they want to see. Couples have had to do it before. As you said, it won't be easy, but we can do it if we have to, yes?"  


Jim placed his hands over Blair's. "Yes, I won't lose you."  


Blair turned his hand over to clasp Jim's. "You won't," he said, simply.  


Jim's last doubts fled. "Okay," he said.  


"Now," Blair said, "I have something to show you."  


*** * ***

"So what' yer think, Skip?" Jack asked.  


Jim looked in wonder at Sweetheart. She'd had more than a paint job. There was a new rail around the main deck; in fact it looked like she had a new deck! There was a row of bench seats down one side. The masthead light shone. The winch was straight and proud. New equipment stacked neatly in new stands stood on the main deck, new hand rails, even the cabin and the wheelhouse were freshly painted and the windows cleaned. Everything shone.  


Jim turned to his crew. "You did all this?"  


"Well, it was Blair who got all the stuff we needed, but we all chipped in with the labor. And Blair sorted out the cabin so it looks a bit more... refined for any lady passengers," Mac said, to some chuckles. "She's all ready to receive scuba diving customers now," said Mac.  


"You spent your money on the Sweetheart?"  


"I don't have anything to spend it on for myself, and she needed a face lift." Blair shrugged. "You want to take her out, Jim? See what you think?"  


Jack coughed. "The rest of us have got things to do on shore, but I'm sure you and Blair can handle her on her new maiden voyage."  


Jim looked down to hide a blush and a grin. Then he thought 'damn it' and looked straight at Blair. "What you think, Blair? You with me here?"  


Blair laughed. "Totally with you, man." He climbed aboard. "Come on, what you waiting for?"  


*** * ***

They moored at the same secluded beach as before. Blair started stripping.  


"Blair?"  


"Come on, Jim!" Blair took a running leap into the water from the back of the boat causing a big splash.  


Jim laughed.  


"What? You've never gone skinny-dipping before? Come on, man!" Blair shouted, wiping the water from his face.  


Jim was already removing his clothes, nearly falling over as he tried to get his socks off. Then he joined Blair in the warm water, splashing his friend as he leapt in.  


Blair laughed loud, but then he dived under the water and Jim suddenly gasped as he felt a hand slid up his cock, followed by Blair's mouth.  


Blair sucked at the mushroom head, and then slowly engulfed the length, pulling back only to take it down and suck hard again. The sheer drag and pull, and knowing that it was Blair doing it, was driving Jim crazy, but it was Blair's hand sneaking around to tap at Jim's asshole that had him coming.  


Blair emerged, wiping his lips and grinning. "I've wanted to do that since, well that first night at my hut!"  


Jim stopped any more words by pulling Blair close and kissing him, tasting himself on Blair's mouth.  


He lightly ran his fingers over Blair's back, finding one of the faded scars.  


"I want to hear the story of each one of these," he said, stroking over it.  


Blair laughed. "Have I mentioned how nosy you are? They're mainly diving scars from when I was more inexperienced. Now I know better."  


"Now you are more experienced." Jim leaned into Blair's ear, tugging gently at the earring there. "Fuck me," he said, softly.  


Blair's eyes widened. "Is that a request or an expletive?"  


"A request, unless you don't want to?"  


"Are you kidding me? I can't tell you how many wet dreams I've had about doing that! Hang on to that thought..."  


Blair dived back under and swam to the boat's ladders.  


"Blair? What? I thought you wanted to..."  


"I do. Just stay right there," Blair called back as he climbed buck naked up the ladder and disappeared into the cabin. There were sounds of drawers been opened hurriedly and then Blair reappeared, with his cock 'dressed' and a tube of something held triumphantly in his hand.  


"Waterproof lube," he said. He jumped back into the water and swam back to Jim.  


"You were so sure of me?"  


Blair blushed. "No, I thought you'd want inside of me. But blame Esme."  


"Esme? Why should I blame Esme?"  


"She put it in my hands a couple of days before you got back. I thought it was just something for the boat, until I looked more closely and realized it was pharmaceutical grade lubrication. The sort only a doctor can get a hold of. She winked at me and said it might be useful!"  


"First Esme, and now my crew. I guess it's pretty obvious how we feel about one another."  


"Guess so. Does that bother you?"  


"Truthfully?"  


Blair nodded.  


"Truthfully I'd like to shout it to the world that we love each other."  


Blair's eyes widened.  


"Not a good idea, though, Chief?"  


"No, while I appreciate the sentiment, it could cause problems for us."  


Jim nodded. "The world has to change a lot before two men can even hold hands in public."  


"Maybe one day..."  


"Maybe one day we can stand in a church or temple and tell the world to go fuck itself!"  


Blair laughed. "And talking of fucking, how about we go into the shallows a bit...."  


Blair swam backwards in the water until he could sit down on the sand with the water around his waist and then beckoned Jim.  


"Come here, babe, and let's go for a ride."  


Jim saddled his lover and began to lower himself. He felt Blair's hands hold his hips for a moment, and then something being pushed against his hole and a cream squirted up inside him, followed by a finger pushing the cream up and around.  


"Mmmm, you are tight. You've not done this for a while, have you."  


Jim was enjoying the feeling of being stretched too much to answer.  


"Okay let's try for two fingers."  


Another squirt of cream and then Blair's second finger joined the first.  


Jim rested his head against Blair's. "Feels good, Blair."  


"Okay, Jim."  


And Jim felt Blair's thick mushroom-headed cock forcing his body to accept the friendly invasion.  


He tightened his muscles around it and began to ride.  


"That's it, Jim. Do it, babe. I want to fill you so far up you'll taste me at the back of your throat!"  


Jim chuckled breathlessly. "Go for it, Chief."  


With each push down, Jim could feel Blair hitting his pleasure center. It was slowly driving him crazy and he didn't want it to stop....  


Blair's hoarse voice cut through the haze.  


"Stay with me, man. If your dials spin out of control, the pleasure could turn to pain."  


Jim smiled at the concern in Blair's voice.  


"I'm with you, babe. We can work on my dials later. Right now I need you to focus on this," and he squeezed his internal muscles around Blair's cock, forcing a breathless laugh from his lover.  


"Oh yeah, got you."  


With each thrust and drag in Jim's tight asshole, it wasn't long before Blair came, with Jim a moment later as he felt Blair's cock swell, thrust and spill inside him.  


The two men sat still, the water just lapping around them lazily. Finally, with Blair's cock softening, Jim gave one it one last loving squeeze and eased up a little for Blair to slip out of his body.  


Blair stroked Jim's face. "God, how I love you, Jim Ellison," he said, softly.  


"Ditto, Blair."  


He sighed. "Guess we'd better head back to the boat, have a siesta and then start back before they send out a search party for us."  


Blair laughed and they did a lazy swim back.  


*** * ***

**Epilogue**  


"So, folks, having scared you all to death over what can go wrong when scuba diving, let's see what you remember. What sign should you use if you are in trouble?"  


Hands were raised and waved back and forth.  


"What are these called?" He held up a pair of fins.  


"Fins!"  


"Good, and what are they never called?"  


"Flippers!"  


"When should you put them on?"  


"Just before you dive."  


"Right. And never..."  


"Walk around the boat in them," came the chorus back at him.  


Jim joined in the laughter.  


"And," added Blair, "don't worry if you have to throw up. The fish will eat it."  


More laughter, and the odd yuck, followed his words.  


Jim grinned largely. "Okay, ladies and gentlemen, let's dive!"  


**The End**   


**Author's Note:**

> Notes: In the late 1930s Acapulco was a sleepy fishing village. But then the Hollywood elite discovered the place and descended upon it. For a short time, Acapulco was the place to be. It was the haunt of people like Frank Sinatra and the Rat Pack, where Elizabeth Taylor married Mike Todd (the third of her eight weddings), and John and Jacqueline Kennedy headed for their honeymoon (as did a young Bill and Hillary Clinton). Howard Hughes spent his last days at the Acapulco Princess hotel. Sadly Acapulco went into the decline in the recession of the '90s and developed a bad reputation in the early 2000s. It's now trying to turn that around.
> 
> Curandero - a cross between a naturopath and a witch doctor.
> 
> Meg Kelley has created some pictures to go with the story. If you are interested, go to my story web site here:  
> http://www.squidge.org/marion/ripples.htm


End file.
